


Smoke and Pain

by elaiel



Category: Stargate Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Police, Arson, Crimes & Criminals, Federal Bureau of Investigation, Gen, Love, Murder, Romance, Thriller
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-28
Updated: 2012-08-28
Packaged: 2017-11-13 02:39:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 32,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/498535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elaiel/pseuds/elaiel





	Smoke and Pain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kimmy4eytj](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimmy4eytj/gifts).



Smoke still wreathed up from the remains of the house. There was little left of it to be honest and all Young could do was wait for the fire and crime scene investigators to finish now. And for the feds to arrive, no doubt there would be someone here from the FBI today. This was the fifth fire in as many weeks; he'd called them in two days ago and phoned again as soon as he got the call last night.

The snow had melted away around the wreckage but he was still standing in three inches of churned up grey slush and there was a foot or more further away where it hadn't been churned up by the fire department and himself and his deputies.

He sighed, watching as TJ and the other paramedic removed the one intact body from the back yard. Mr Caine had evidently managed to escape the building somehow but the combination of smoke inhalation and burns had killed him before the fire department had arrived on the scene. At least that was the working hypothesis.

Matt and Vanessa his deputies were talking to a shocked Andrea Palmer. She was sat in the doorway of the patrol car. Wrapped in a blanket with a thermos cup of coffee. Poor woman was Caine's sister, lived not quarter of a mile away and had discovered the disaster when she'd seen it out of her back door. Her brother's house, burning.

Young remembered when they were kids, he'd been friends with the Caines back then, and they'd sat on the Caines' back porch with a set of binoculars waving signals to the Andersons in the house the Palmers now lived in.

TJ walked over to him and he turned away from the smoking wreckage to face her.

"Any sign of the family?" She asked.

He shook his head, taking off his hat and running fingers through his hair.

"Fire department only just let the crime scene investigators in." He said. He sighed. "If they were in there though, then there's no hope."

She pressed her lips together and put a hand on his arm in sympathy.

"You were friends?"

"Went to school with Rob and with Janey, though she was Janey O'Hara back then." He nodded at Andrea Palmer. "Andrea was a couple years below us."

"Small place, Destiny." Said TJ.

Young nodded.

"It's been a tough year." He said. "Too many bad things. This town's had a run of bad luck."

He shivered reflexively despite the thick jacket and put the hat back on. TJ stood for a moment, then patted his arm.

"Look," she said. "We'd better get Mr Caine's body back to the hospital, but," she paused, "I know this has been hard, and...if you want to chat, just a coffee, then I'd be grateful for the company myself."

He looked at her, a little taller than him, very blond, very pretty, a good deal younger than him. Half his mind was saying no, don't burn your bridges, Emily might come back. The other half told him he was lonely, should take up the offer, it was just a coffee, just a chat. She was new, not a lot of friends, certainly no one else who would understand the kind of stress a job like hers, or his, involved. He nodded slowly.

"That'd be good." He said. "Maybe...are you working tomorrow?"

"Today tomorrow, or tomorrow tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow tomorrow."

She shook her head. He took the plunge.

"What about lunch?" he said.

Lunch was good, lunch was safe, friendly but not too intimate.

She smiled.

"I'd like that. Shall I meet you?"

He smiled in return.

"Why don't you come by the office around midday."

They said their goodbyes and she walked back over to where Cole, the other paramedic, was waiting. Young watched as they shut the back door, got in and drove off, slush flying up from the wheels of the ambulance.

He sighed and walked over to his car. This fire was exactly the same as the last, just over a week ago. Luckily in that case the family had all got out, the Dunning family dogs had woken them barking.

The Baras family hadn't been so lucky. Nor had the Franklins. Jeremy was still in a coma in hospital, the only survivor being little Luke who had been staying over at a friends. Poor kid.

Six families wrecked.

In a town as small as Destiny everyone knew everyone. Hell, half the town was related to the other half. His deputy Matt Scott and Becky Deacon who managed the office for them were double cousins, their parents having been two siblings marrying two siblings. There wasn't a person unaffected by tragedy.

The sky in the east was beginning to lighten and he decided to leave Matt and Vanessa to mind the scene and get back to the office, start on the paperwork, pick up the inevitable calls. There wasn't anything else he could do here immediately, and they could keep an eye on the crime scene and arson investigators as well as he could. He scratched the stubble on his chin and realised how filthy he was. It had been a long night.

Matt was still talking to Andrea, but Vanessa saw him shifting, turning towards the car and walked over. He paused and waited for her.

"Going back to the office?" she asked.

He nodded.

"I'll get started on the reports. Catch a couple hours sleep and then come back. You reckon you can make it through till lunchtime?"

She nodded.

"I can always trade off a couple hours sleep in the car with Matt." She said.

He nodded.

"Ring if anything comes up."

She nodded and for a moment he almost thought she was going to salute, but she gave him a humourless grin and turned back to the scene. Vanessa was an unusual sort in Destiny. She'd had a hankering to see the world and a bigger hankering to get out from under the thumb of her poor but god fearing mother and, for want of cash or much of an education, had joined the Marines. She'd been gone for a few years and he knew she had served in Afghanistan although she hadn't shared details. Eventually, her term up she had drifted back to Destiny and looked for something to do. Young was ex-military himself, he knew what it was like to come out without a destination in sight and had offered her the job when Lewis had retired, she was smart, alert, knew her way round a gun (every weapon he'd ever seen her with) and had a talent for defusing crises.

The only small issue had been her previous relationship with Matt, and there was history there he hadn't pried into either, but they seemed to have ironed that out.

He unlocked the car, got in and left.

 

xxxoooxxx

 

It was about six AM when he got back to the office in town. He pulled into the small lot in front and parked up. The lights were on, meaning that Becky was already in. Officially she didn't start until half eight but no doubt she'd been woken up by someone to break the news. He walked through the front door. Becky was sat at the front desk, typing. She looked up as he walked in.

"Is it bad?" she asked.

He nodded.

"All of them?"

"Looks that way."

She looked away and he gave her a moment to collect herself.

"The forms are on your desk." She said finally. "I pulled the files again, and there's a message on the answer phone from an Agent Wray saying she'll be here first thing. I've made her up the spare desk and found her a couple of drawers for her papers."

He nodded gratefully, and walked through the hatch in the counter, patting her on the shoulder as he walked past. There was a small noise as he did so, and looking down he could see baby Oliver sleeping in his carry cot on the floor. Too early for her mom to have taken him like she usually did, he guessed. He walked on through. The office smelled of coffee and he could see a paper wrapped parcel on his desk. He left it for the moment and walked into the washroom, wedging the door closed with the trashcan and stripping to the waist to wash the soot and the smell of smoke away. It didn't completely fix it, but it was an improvement. A quick trip to his desk and he returned with a disposable razor and a clean shirt from the emergency supply. Cleaner and shaved he felt a lot more human. The battered sofa in the back of the office was calling him but he ignored it and sat down at his desk.

The paper wrapped parcel turned out to be ham on rye and a cup of strong coffee had appeared next to it by the time he got out of the washroom. He sat down and ate it while he started to make sense of the notes he'd already taken and tried to fill out the report as far as possible.

He only looked up when the bell attached to the front door jangled and he looked up to see it open and a well dressed woman in a sharp suit, followed by a slightly ferrety looking man walked in. The feds, definitely the feds. He stood and walked over.

"Hi, I'm Young."

"Agent Camile Wray, this is Agent Brody. You called in for some assistance with your serial arsonist."

He held out his hand.

"Pleased to meet you."

"Likewise."

She was Chinese American, well spoken, her pant suit probably cost more than he paid Becky in a month, but he noted she had sensible footwear for the season and terrain and the winter coat she had over her arm looked about right. Not entirely ignorant of what to expect out here then.

Brody wasn't as neatly dressed, a slightly shifty looking type Young thought, probably smart though. He looked around the office rather than making eye contact.

"Come through." Invited Young, lifting the flap. "Coffee? Have you eaten?"

"Coffee would be ideal," said Wray. "And no."

Becky turned from the counter.

"Becker will have opened up by now." She said. "I'll get him to send something over from the diner. Is there anything you don't like?"

They both shook their heads.

"Spend enough time travelling like this and you get used to eating whatever is put in front of you." Said Brody a little darkly.

Young snorted.

"I know that one. This is Becky Deacon who runs the office for us," he introduced her, "if there's anything you need, she's the one to go to."

Becky smiled.

"I've got you rooms booked at the local motel." She said. "It's not too bad."

"Thank you." Wray said and turned back to Young. "Where do we set up?"

Young stepped back and gestured to the spare desk and the table in the back of the room.

"It's not much," he said, "but you've got what space we've got. I've put the files so far on your desk for you to review."

"Fine, that where we'll start then."

They sat down and started on the files. He knew the contents by heart. Five fires, in five homes, fourteen dead, a further seven survivors, of which two were still in the hospital, no motive and little evidence. The town was scared, very scared. He poured coffees and passed over the sandwiches when they arrived, going back to finishing his report. They barely looked up to thank him, intent on the information in front of them.

The work finished, he excused himself, told them to wake him if they needed him, and crashed out on the sofa in back.

Becky woke him at about half ten with another cup of coffee. Agent Wray was sitting in the chair at her borrowed desk, making notes on a laptop. She looked over as he rolled to a sitting position.

"Sleep there often?" she asked.

He shook his head.

"Not often," he said, stretching kinks out of his shoulders and back from the cramped position he'd been sleeping in, "only if I'm out all night."

She closed the laptop.

"So," she said, "where do you want to start?"

It took him a moment to realise she was asking what part of the case he wanted to explain first. He rubbed his eyes and took a deep draught of the coffee. He sat back on the sofa.

"I'm getting the impression from the files and from...Becky is it...?"

Young nodded.

"...that it's been a tough couple of months in Destiny. So as background, what's happened?"

Young sighed.

"I guess the first problem was the gypsies." He said. "They turned up in a bunch of caravans and Winnebago’s and just moved onto the Armstrong property. That was, what three months ago." His eyes rolled to the ceiling as he tried to recall the sequence of events.

Wray typed a couple of notes as he turned it over in his mind.

"And who are the Armstrongs?"

"Old Destiny family." Young said, looking down at the floor and them up at Wray. "Alan owned the Icarus factory that's the main employer round here. Kept the business here and kept the business profitable enough without moving or going out of state or overseas. Without it Destiny would be a ghost town."

Wray nodded.

"And what does the factory make?"

"It's mainly military equipment." Young paused, "they do some classified projects I know, have their own security, but we've always had a good relationship with them. The factory's been a part of the town since Old Mr Armstrong built it. Entire families work there, the family have always had a commitment to training and employing locals as well as bringing in the best from out of town."

Wray gave him a long look.

"I can see the factory is important to the town, emotionally as well as practically."

Young started.

"I guess so. It's part of what Destiny is."

She nodded, making notes.

"So, how is the factory involved with the current problem?"

"It isn't, only indirectly. Armstrong started action to evict the gypsies from his land, they said they'd nowhere to go, but he didn't want them on the family property which is understandable. David Telford who's the head of security at Icarus advised him it might be better to have some security at the house what with him and his wife and daughter being so isolated out there, but Armstrong wouldn't have it." Young stood, rolling his shoulders before continuing. "Well, from what we can tell, there was some kind of confrontation between him and some of the gypsies and he got himself shot at. Scared the crap out of the wife, but she's always been a fragile sort."

The tap tap of Wray's keyboard was the only noise in the office.

"What happened about the case?"

"The gypsies left town, but state police caught up with them. Bullets matched a gun found on one of the gypsies, he's awaiting trial as we speak, as are most of the others for aiding and abetting a felon and a raft of other charges, handling stolen goods, card fraud, drug possession, you name it."

Wray looked up at him.

"And you don't think there's any chance this is retribution attacks?"

"Doubt it, seems no connection at all, if it had been the Armstrong house burned, then..." he stopped and shrugged. "Still, was a difficult thing to deal with, caused us a whole bunch of problems." He moved to lean against the table. "Anyway, if that wasn't enough trouble for the family there was an accident at the factory. Armstrong worked there, and his daughter as well, real family business, four generations. His grandfather started it. Anyway some piece of machinery overheated, potential explosion risk and the smoke and gases would have been toxic, a risk to the whole area. Armstrong went in and shut it down, but his heart gave out and he died before he could get out. He'd been sick for a long time, heart troubles though managed well I'm told, but that was obviously too much and he had a heart attack and died. They had to vent the room safely before they could bring the body out, but the scientists up there and the safety investigators said he'd have been dead of the fumes anyway."

Wray made a bunch more notes on the laptop. Young wondered how many she'd already taken. He couldn't get his head round notes on the computer. Needed a board, photos and pieces of string. His only concession to modernity was post it notes.

"And the results of the safety investigation?"

"One in a million fluke. Nothing that could have been predicted." Said Young. "I think his wife found that hard to take, no one to blame, but after a few wobbles Chloe his daughter has coped and she's the one who's really taken her dad's projects to heart, continuing the family business. Mrs Armstrong by all accounts has taken it hard."

He looked up and looked at the clock on the wall.

"Look, Agent Wray, it's twenty past eleven can we go out to the scene; I want to check in on my deputies. We can talk in the car."

Wray nodded, shut her laptop and stood.

"Where's Agent Brody?"

"I sent him to get some sleep, he did most of the driving." She said. "And call me Camile."

"Everett." He said. "Fine if I drive?"

She nodded again.

They walked out to his car and got in. He pulled out of the lot and out onto the road towards the Caine house. The road had been cleared in the town but as they hit the edge of town he was forced to slow down, black ice had made the roads treacherous, another small stress he didn't need.

"So," she said, as they "I'm guessing there have been other problems."

He didn't take his eyes off the road, but nodded, assuming she was looking at him.

"There's been a rash of stuff happening." He said. "But it's hard to tell which of them are relevant or important if any."

They drove a little further. She didn't press him, waiting for him to continue in his own time.

"We've had several black outs." He continued. "The last month, about I think three."

He slowed to take a sharper bend.

"It's been a real problem with the weather." He said. "Two of them seemed to be normal occurrences, trees taking out power cables, not unexpected in bad weather. The other was, well, the power company were unclear as to why the pylon came down."

They passed a small group of houses and dipping down over a small bridge before the ground rose towards the turn off for the Caine house.

"It's nothing that you'd normally…" Young stopped.

"If there wasn't also so many other things happening." Wray finished.

He nodded, turning off onto the drive to the Caine house. The track to the house wasn't made up and they bumped over it, difficult to avoid the potholes under their covering of grey slush.

"So," said Wray, "This fire."

Young took a deep breath.

"Similar to the others." He said. "From what the fire department have said, they think it was an accelerant poured through the dog door at the back and at the front. They haven't said what, but the others have all been gasoline."

They pulled up at the crime scene. Matt was leaning against the patrol car, Vanessa was nowhere to be seen and Young assumed she had made good on her idea of taking a couple hours sleep in the car. The scene was exactly as he had left it. The other patrol car, the fire department van, the crime scene van from the State police, the figures in boiler suits examining the crime scene.

Wray was opening the door as he engaged the parking brake. He left her to go and talk to the crime scene guys and walked over to where Matt was waiting by the other cruiser.

"Matt."

"Sir."

Matt nodded and pushed himself up from the car. In the back of the cruiser Young could see Vanessa curled on the back seat, asleep, head pillowed on her arms. Matt glanced back at her and took a few steps away from the car.

"How's it going?" Young asked.

"Slow." Matt said. "They found the two kids though, in the bedroom. There wasn't much left." He pressed his lips together, face distressed. "They're working forwards, haven't got to the master bedroom yet. Haven't found Mrs Caine."

"Okay. Have they said anything about the cause?"

"It's definitely an accelerant through the front and back doors like the fire service on the scene thought. They've taken samples, but there's gasoline spilled in the front and back yards so it's pretty certain that that's the accelerant."

"Any further signs of how the arsonist got here?"

Not that anyone can see, even the crime techs weren't able to see anything, but the driveways been so churned up by the fire truck and our cruisers and all that it'd be hard to pick anything out. They're trying. The snow has been pretty much melted out by the fire and the water from the fire department so that's a bust too."

He shook his head. Young looked at the young man, he looked drained and there were deep dark circles under his eyes visible even through the faint coating of soot.

"You go home son." Everett clapped him on the shoulder. "I'll take over with Vanessa. Get a shower, catch a few hours sleep and I'll ring you later if we need you back. I reckon the crime techs will be finished by then though and I doubt there's anything we can do here anyway."

Matt looked back at the cruiser with Vanessa sleeping in the back.

"Take mine." Young said, taking out his keys. "I'll get Becky to drive out if Vanessa and I need to go back separately, and no doubt Agent Brody can come get Agent Wray."

He walked back to his cruiser and took out a few bits before handing the keys to Matt. He watched as the cruiser pulled out.

Wray, Camile he corrected himself, was still speaking to the fire investigator and he walked over.

"What did I miss?" he asked as the both turned to him.

"It's pretty much a carbon copy of the last fire." Lisa Park said, rubbing a soot smudged cheek, "Accelerant through the dog door at the back, and through a broken pane at the front. Considering there's traces of what smells like gasoline spilled in the front and back yards I'd be pretty certain that's what was used. We'll know when the test results come back from the lab. The crime scene guys are being pretty thorough, but we've had to stop so they can move the bodies of the two children out."

He'd only come to know Lisa Park these last few weeks, since the fire started and always thought Lisa seemed too delicate, too fragile, for the career she was in. But she'd got a solid career as a fire fighter behind her before she'd trained and specialised. Somehow though he couldn't imagine her suited and helmeted running into a burning building.

Still as she hefted a toolbox of equipment towards her truck, he realised again that there was more to her physically as well as mentally than he gave her credit for.

"I'll get my report over to you as fast as possible." She called back. "I'll need the preliminary results from the crime scene techs as well, but it shouldn't be more than a day or two."

She lifted the box into the truck and came back to wait, while the two crime techs carefully lifted the remains of the children out of the ruined house.

He gave Camile the guided tour of the area, pointing out landmarks and where the site was in relation to other buildings. After walking the site they spread a map in the bonnet of the car and he noted the location of all the fires and the locations of the power line damage.

"I know you haven't found a link to it," Camile said finally, staring at the pencil marks on the map. "But you have to admit, everything's happening in a pretty tight radius of the Icarus works."

He shrugged.

"I won't deny it, but if you can find a real connection, be my guest."

"Well," Camile said. "I think I need to speak to someone up at that plant."

 

xxxoooxxx

 

The Icarus factory was a rather disorienting blend of the traditional and the hypermodern. The whole complex was surrounded with some seriously high fences, as befitted a facility undertaking classified projects, razor wire, security cameras and Camile spotted at least one man with a large Rottweiler guard dog.

However, as they pulled up to the gate, the young man in uniform on the gate looked through the car window and smiled.

"Hi Sheriff Young, how you doing? How's my favourite cousin Becky doing?"

"She's fine Carl, is Ms Armstrong expecting us."

"Oh yes sir, you and..." he squinted into the car, "Agents Wray and Brody."

They obligingly held up their IDs and he grinned at them.

"That's just fine. Well, you know where to go, you all have a nice afternoon."

He raised the barrier and waved them through. They drove down a long drive. There were a variety of buildings on the site. Some evidently dated from the days of the current Ms Armstrong's great grandfather, but the main buildings now were large, glassy and very modern looking, with a large expanse of manicured lawn outside. The whole site was open and landscaped with wide areas of planting, although few trees.

Young pulled up outside a large building fronted in a dark smoked glass. As soon as he pulled up there was a tall man in a black security uniform walking out to meet them. Wray looked at him, he was hard to place, not white certainly, probably at least partly native American, tall and muscular with short dark hair and a walk that said someone at some point in the past had spent a lot of time teaching him how to march. Definitely ex-military, not a doubt about that.

"Everett!" he greeted Young as they got out of the car.

He smiled as he walked up and Wray thought he looked like a tiger. Pleased to meet you, but you weren't sure you wanted to know the reason why.

"David, how are you?" Young shook his hand warmly.

"Fine." He said. "These are your FBI agents?"

Young nodded.

"Agent Camile Wray and Agent Brody, this is David Telford, Head of Security at Icarus Industries."

Telford shook their hands, grip firm, face schooled into a polite smile.

"I don't trust you." Thought Camile, smiling back pleasantly. "Pleased to meet you Mr Telford."

He led them into the building, opening the doors into an airy reception area where they signed in and accepted visitor passes before he took them through a set of security doors with swipe card and key pad entry and through a couple of corridors to what must be some kind of meeting room.

The room was dominated by a large cherry wood conference table surrounded by chairs and a large painting of a serious looking man from the early 1900s. There were three people waiting in the room, a very tired looking young woman in a lavender dress and jacket was sitting at the head of the table drinking a coffee, who Camile guessed must be Miss Armstrong.

Next to her stood a shortish middle aged man with brown hair that brushed his collar and hung over his face almost hid his narrow features. He was tidy but casual in a white shirt and brown jacket. He looked restless, and looked up at them as they walked in, but his body language was focussed on the girl, shoulders turned slightly towards her. He looked as drained as she did, worn around the eyes. The other occupant of the room was a nervous looking young man, maybe a little older than Miss Armstrong, but not by much who hovered near the coffee machine with an unhappy expression. He was wearing a red shirt and tie with jeans and could have done with his hair being brushed. Everything about him screamed geek to Camile.

Young greeted them as he walked up to the table.

"Hello Chloe, Doctor Rush, Eli."

The young woman smiled faintly, the man addressed as Doctor Rush glowered through the curtain of his hair and Eli gave an awkward bob of the head. Telford stepped forward.

"This is Agent Camile Wray and Agent Brody." He gestured to them. "Camile, Agent Brody, this is Chloe Armstrong our CEO and owner, Doctor Nicholas Rush, Head of Research and Development at Icarus and Eli Wallace." He turned to Eli, "What's your job title at the moment Eli?"

Eli looked up from the coffee machine.

"Executive Research Assistant." He said.

"Dogsbody and gopher to Chloe and myself." Doctor Rush said with a wry smile. "He's the one who actually gets things done round here."

Eli rolled his eyes.

Camile noted the scientist's accent, quite evidently from Scotland. When Miss Armstrong looked over at him, Eli brought the tray of coffee and mugs over to the table then sat down next to her. Without being asked Rush sat on her other side. Camile noticed his body language was somewhat defensive towards them but still very focused on Miss Armstrong.

She gestured to the chairs along the side of the table, next to them.

"Take a seat, please."

Camile sat herself nearest to the end, next to Eli, Brody next to her. Young sat opposite, next to Rush, Telford on his other side.

"What can we do for you?" Chloe asked Camile directly.

"You know what we're here investigating?" Camile queried, more of a statement than a question.

Chloe nodded.

"One of the leads we're following up is that it's connected to your father's death somehow."

Miss Armstrong took a deep breath, held it a second, then let it out. She let her hands fall into her lap.

"I suppose that's…understandable. Though I can't see a connection." She paused. "But you have to follow these things up."

"I'm sorry Miss Armstrong but a lot of the things we are seeing is suggesting that the current crimes have something to do with Icarus and everything has come to a head since your father's death."

Camile was watching her, and noticed when her arm moved just slightly. If Camile hadn't been deliberately watching her reactions as she talked she wouldn't have noticed. It looked like she had reached out to touch Doctor Rush under the table, but for what reason Camile couldn't have said, as nothing reached the young woman's face. Rush was impassive, gave no indication anything had happened.

"What would you like to see. Who do you want to speak to?"

"Well, I'd like Agent Brody to go over the safety inspection report from the accident," Camile said, "and to see where it happened. I'd also like to talk to yourself, and anyone else who was there on the day."

"That would be me, Doctor Rush, Eli, Doctor Volker, Doctor Caine, Doctor Damji and Ronald Greer. Ronald is one of the security staff, the others all work in the labs, except Doctor Caine now."

Camile saw Telford scowl at the mention of Ronald Greer, there was obviously no love lost there. Another small issue to ask someone. The whole room went quiet at the mention of Doctor Caine.

"It's mid afternoon already," Miss Armstrong said, "so I'll arrange for you to speak to everyone tomorrow, but I can speak to you this afternoon." She turned to Eli. "Eli, will you take Dr Brody and the Sheriff and show them the records and the lab."

Brody and Young stood and followed Eli out of the room.

"I think you can get back to what you were doing before." She said to Rush and Telford. "I can speak to Agent Wray in here."

Telford nodded.

"Agent Wray." He said politely. He nodded to Miss Armstrong again and walked out.

Rush looked irritated, he glowered again at Camile, looked like he was going to say something, then simply patted Miss Armstrong on the shoulder and walked out, shutting the door behind him.

"Miss Armstrong, are you okay if I record this interview?" Camile asked. "It's not an official interview so it wouldn't be evidence but it will help me write up my notes afterwards."

Camile's voice was gentle, but it appeared the young woman had some steel in her anyway as she stood and poured coffee for them both then walked back over to the table and put it down in front of them. She gave Camile a frank look.

"That's okay. And you can call me Chloe." She said. "Everybody does, it's hard to be Miss Armstrong when half of your employees saw you in nappies." She put cream in her coffee. "Now, what do you want to ask?"

Camile turned on the Dictaphone and set it on the table.

"What can you tell me about your father?"

"He was a driven man." Chloe said. "Devoted to the company the same as me. He loved the business, it was him that diversified our portfolio and built all of the new parts of the factory. Before he started we were just making straightforward missiles." She sat back in her chair. "He built up the research side of the business to branch out into other technologies. That's why Doctor Rush was brought in to the company, they knew each other at University and he had some ideas that Daddy wanted to trial. It's been very profitable."

"Have there been problems with competitors?"

Chloe shrugged.

"Our major competitors are Argent Defence Solutions and Rahest Incorporated and used to be Carnegie-Wallace but they went bust. Nothing beyond the usual." She said. "At least not in the last ten years since I've been involved in what was going on."

"Ten years?" Camile asked surprised. "That would be since you were...?"

"I grew up around the factory, but I started working here in the holidays when I was fourteen." Chloe said. "I was a filing clerk my first summer in records, then the year I was fifteen I was an administrative assistant in the labs. The summer I was sixteen I worked in human resources, the year after that in marketing and new business, the summer before I went to college I was back in the labs again and on the factory floor, then the four summers during my degree I was in the labs, then finance, the labs again, then my father's office. I've worked for the company full time since I finished my MBA."

Camile nodded with an appreciative look.

"It sounds like your father wanted you to get a good grasp of the company." She said.

Chloe nodded. "I can pretty much say I know the business from the ground up. I can even drive a forklift truck."

Camile took a sip of her coffee.

"I know this is difficult but I'm going to need to ask you some difficult questions about your father."

Chloe nodded. Her face was schooled to a expressionless mask, just a little tight round the eyes.

"Your father and mother have been married for twenty five years?"

Chloe nodded.

"And were there other women in your father's life at all?"

The young woman shook her head vehemently.

"No never." She said. "My father would never go with another woman."

Camile nodded sympathetically. "I'm sorry but I have to ask. And your mother?"

"No, never."

"So you would say your parents had a good relationship?"

"I don't know why this is relevant."

"I'm sorry," Camile apologised, "but we always need to get a picture of all of the important people in any case."

Chloe looked down at her cup then took a deep breath and looked back at Camile.

"My parent's marriage was not a close one for many years. I think they mainly stayed together out of habit and for me. But they were friends, and my father tried to do the best for my mother, as she had given up her life and any expectations of a career to marry him. My mother I think has come to terms with that. My parents didn't share a room any more before you ask, but they had a life together, shared interests and spent time together."

Camile made a couple of notes on things to follow up, before looking back to Chloe again.

"Okay, you said that Carnegie-Wallace was it...?" she asked. Chloe nodded. "Carnegie-Wallace went bust."

Chloe nodded.

"And would Eli Wallace have anything to do with that?"

Chloe nodded.

"His family's business." She said. "Dad offered him a job when things went wrong for them. He's a good employee." She added a little defensively.

Camile nodded.

"Okay. I'd like to go onto the accident."

Chloe laid out the circumstances of the accident. She didn't go into a large quantity of detail about the technical issues, but she laid out the basics of who had been involved. She and her father and Eli had been in her father's office, looking at a potential new contract when the phone had rung. They had all hurried down to the lab, not even thinking about the danger, just about the damage that an explosion could do. Rush and Volker had been in the lab, Greer and Damji had been outside. Caine had arrived shortly after. Her father had gone in, Volker had sustained a burn and Armstrong had had Rush drag him out. Things had then deteriorated suddenly Armstrong had isolated a series of systems and components and then there had been the explosion. However, due to what Armstrong had done the damage was contained in the labs. Sadly, the others had seen everything through the impact proof glass.

Camile watched as Chloe broke down and pulled out a tissue, handing it to her. She waited for the girl to wipe her eyes, and took her arm sympathetically.

"I know you need to ask more stuff," Chloe faltered, "but can we finish tomorrow?"

Camile nodded.

"That would be fine."

Chloe stood.

"You can finish your notes in here if you like." She said. "When you're done, my secretary is three doors along. Please ask her if you need anything."

She walked out.

Camile pulled her laptop out and took down some notes while things were clear in her mind. When she was finished she packed up and left the room, looking for the secretary's room. She wasn't intending to do so, but Miss Armstrong hadn't said left or right and she pushed the third door along open then stopped.

The two people in the room didn't notice her. She paused and looked curiously as Chloe Armstrong sobbed into the shoulder of Doctor Rush, who had his arms wrapped round her, his face pressed into her hair. Neither noticed her and she stepped back and silently walked away.

 

xxxoooxxx

 

Young didn't know Eli Wallace very well, he'd met him a few times around town and at various events and happenings, but had never really met him. As soon as they were out of the room the young man started talking ten to the dozen about inconsequential matters, and kept up the monologue all the way to the lab.

The lab from the accident had been largely repaired but was still out of use. Eli told them honestly he was taking them the long way round to avoid areas with classified work. Young suspected that Eli would find it extremely hard not to be honest, and that Eli had two settings, tell the truth or don't talk about it.

He found himself warming to the young man, there was something rather endearing about him, and it was almost surprising when he broke into an explanation of something so wildly technical that Young didn't even know what he was talking about, let alone why it was important or relevant. Brody seemed to understand however, so Young nodded vaguely and left them to keep the conversation going.

The lab was now empty except for a table along one wall, but Eli retrieved the files and spread the accident photos out on the table. There was a lot of blood in the photos. Young remembered it clearly, having been to the scene and as he turned to orient himself in the room relative to the photos, his mind produced him a disturbing double exposure image of the scene that day.

Brody didn't talk much, but was practical and professional, no doubt he had many of this sort of crime scene, and Young was glad he was so calm, as he seemed to be keeping Eli grounded. Young remembered whilst by all accounts Eli had reacted well in the crisis he had been in deep shock after the accident and it was only three months ago.

Brody evidently concurred with the conclusions of the accident investigators, that the whole incident was a terrible accident. Whilst the machine had failed which had led to a catastrophic system failure, the checks and maintenance schedule had been followed, all routine safety procedures had been observed.

They went through the reports, walking round the room, placing sheets of paper on the floor to stand for various things. Young stood back and watched, only adding a comment where he thought the "objects" had been incorrectly located, as they worked through the timeline of the accident.

They followed it through. Volker's realisation that there was a serious problem, Volker calling Rush over then calling Caine the expert with that system as Rush tried to shut down the system. It was Greer and Doctor Damji who had called up to Armstrong. Rush had sent both Volker and Caine out when it became evident that the overloading system was not going to be shut down. Armstrong, Chloe and Eli had arrived. Armstrong had entered the lab with Rush, they had managed to partially isolate the machine from the system then Armstrong had thrown Rush out and manually managed to contain the system damage until the machine blew.

The witness statements, within the bounds of normal variation for a traumatic event, tallied. There was some variation on a few points, Armstrong ordering Rush out as opposed to physically throwing him out the door and locking it. Still that was to be expected in witness statements.

Brody examined the blast evidence, the coroner's evidence, and the system reports from the factory. Everything tallied. He turned back to Young.

"Unless I'm missing something Sheriff, there's nothing new to find here."

 

xxxoooxxx

 

 

Young was waiting in the in the office at midday the next day, trying not to clock watch. Brody had been in the office glued to his laptop and a bunch of the reports from the previous scenes. Camile had gone back up to Icarus to interview the staff who had been at the accident, but he hadn't been needed and to be honest there was more than enough to keep him busy. The scene reports from the previous day needed completion, evidence reports from the previous fire had arrived from the lab and a series of telephone calls needed to be made.

All of which kept him busy and distracted until he got off the phone to notice it was twenty to twelve.  His mind refused to cooperate, waiting for TJ arrive. Damn. He tried to give himself a stern talking to. This was not a date, this was lunch with a friend, but he was still restless and nervous up to the point that she walked into the office.

He was stunned.

He hadn't realised how long her hair was. Rather than the complicated pleat she normally wore to work, it was caught back off her face but hung around her shoulders in a shining cascade of white gold. He had a sudden urge to run his fingers though it. He dragged his eyes away from her hair.

She hadn't noticed his yet and it gave him a moment to study her. The uniform had been replaced by a calf length skirt in a warm brown corduroy, knee high leather boots, and as she took off her coat, he could see a lace edge scoop necked top under a brushed cotton shirt in a matching blue. The outfit looked...tactile.  He pulled himself together and walked forward.

"Everett." She said, smiling.

"Hi." He stepped round the counter. "Where do you want to go?"

It wasn't much of a question. There were two diners, two bars and Becker's deli within reasonable distance. They settled on Becker's deli, being the closest and having the best food. Somehow Becker always managed to make something amazing out of simple ingredients. It did mean running the gauntlet of town gossip but Everett figured he'd been single for three years and divorced for nine months and it wasn't like he was doing anything wrong.

They went to the deli and sat near the back, away from the majority of prying eyes. As usual the place was filling up fast, but they managed to get a small table against the wall. Becker's sister Leah came over and gave them a couple of menus and Young steered the conversation to the safe topic of food they liked. In the end they both went for the same, Swiss cheese with tomato relish and salad on sun dried tomato bread. Somehow the thought they liked the same thing warmed him.

Leah brought them coffee to be going on with while their food was made and TJ steered the conversation to the weather. While they sipped at their coffee she told him about the latest weather news she had heard before she came out, predicting another reasonably heavy fall of snow. Young commiserated with her, it wasn't what either of them needed in their jobs.

The snowy weather got on to the topic of whether the lake would freeze hard enough for skating soon. TJ apparently loved to skate. Young listened to her tell him about it, what she loved about it and admitted himself that while he could just about skate, he wasn't very confident. She smiled at him and told him that she'd have to teach him to skate properly, and though the thought of embarrassing himself in front of her out on the ice wasn't a great one, he found himself agreeing as her face lit up while she was talking about it.

He smiled back at her and ordered them both a slice of hot apple cinnamon pie and custard. Over pie they discussed sports and how badly the local hockey team were likely to do this year. The conversation moved on to other topics, and lunch ended all too soon, the crowd in the deli thinning out.

Young stood, TJ took her purse out.

"Not that I'm old fashioned," he said, "but this is my treat."

She looked at him then smiled as he turned towards the counter.

"Okay," she said smiling, "as long as you let me pay for dinner."

He paused, stopping mid-turn, and looked at her. He wasn't sure what his expression was, he suspected a little startled. Her face fell a little.

"We don't…"

"It'd be great." He said. "I'd love to."

"When?" she asked.

"When do you have a free evening?"

She smiled in relief.

"I'm on lates for the next four days, but I could do Saturday or Sunday?"

Young smiled back.

"Saturday then. Shall I collect you?"

She nodded. "I'd like that. Let me write my number down."

She scribbled her number of a piece of paper while he paid at the counter. When he was done she walked him back to work. On the doorstep they paused and he turned to her.

"I enjoyed that."

"Me too." She said handing him her number.

She leaned in kissed him on the cheek. "Ring me Saturday afternoon and I'll let you know what time to collect me." She said. "I'd say ring me before but I'll be asleep or on shift most of the time."

Her voice was apologetic.

"No," he said, "that's okay, I'll call you Saturday."

"Till Saturday then." She said.

He watched her get in her car and drive away before he went back into the office.

 

xxxoooxxx

 

The day had been a relatively routine one. Brody had reviewed all of the crime scene reports whilst Camile had gone back to the factory to interview people. He had checked all the data and tomorrow he would go visit all the crime scenes and set up a meeting with the fire investigator Lisa Park. The data on the scenes seemed very complete, she appeared to have done a pretty good job, although he wouldn't know until he got there.

He had had one phone call of the day to make, in the afternoon a twenty minute discussion about the machine that had exploded with Dr Dale Volker from the Icarus plant, but this had only confirmed the existing findings and didn't seem to shed any new light on the matter.

He was beginning to think he wasn't really massively necessary on this trip. The local departments seemed to have been doing a pretty good job as far as the scenes went. He suspected it would come down to Camile's skill at investigation and profiling in the final analysis. However, you couldn't leave something like that to chance.

Young had worked in the office all morning, then apologising for his absence had gone out on more routine business in the afternoon. He worked through until Camile came back to the office at about five pm.

Camile looked tired not unexpected after a day of interviews, and looked up gratefully as Becky brought over a tray of coffee and cookies. Becky grinned and wandered back to the desk, leaving them some privacy. Camile sipped at the coffee and demolished three cookies before sitting back and filling him in on the interviews. She had finished up the interview with Miss Armstrong, finding nothing else of particular interest except the fact that her mother had been in a particularly fragile state since her father's death. Miss Armstrong had explained their relationship with suppliers and buyers, mainly the military and various law enforcement agencies, including the FBI.

Eli Wallace had been an interesting interview, Camile told him, finishing up the coffee and taking another cookie. He had been employed by Armstrong senior after the company his father had part owned had gone bust and his father had committed suicide. Eli had been forced to drop out of MIT and things had been very hard for him particularly as his mother was unwell with some unspecified but evidently dangerous condition. Armstrong had offered him a job with full benefits for him and his family. Camile had thought Wallace very genuine and Brody offered his corresponding opinion. The young man had seemed pretty transparent the previous day and had seemed genuinely upset about the accident. Still, his father's death did give him a significant motive.

Greer had not been an easy interview apparently, he'd not been happy about being questioned, but had offered similar testimony to Wallace and Miss Armstrong. Despite the fact he had discussed the whole of the incident with Camile she was of the opinion that he was hiding something. He had not been particularly forthcoming about his life outside of work and was cagey when asked about his opinions on Telford, Wallace, Rush and Miss Armstrong.

Camile's last interview had been Doctor Damji. Sonia Damji had been very focussed and almost clinical throughout the interview, talking about the blast and the accident in a very practical and unemotional manner. Brody nodded and offered that she was an explosions expert, maybe it was a coping mechanism?

The only person Camile had not been able to interview was Doctor Rush, who whilst he had been around in the morning, had been conveniently unavailable in the afternoon. Miss Armstrong had apparently assured Camile that Doctor Rush would make himself available for interview when she returned to talk to David Telford and Doctor Volker who had also been off site. Camile wasn't sure.

"I'm going back to the hotel." Said Camile. "I'm planning a pizza, a long bath and an early night."

Brody turned the idea over in his head.

"I think I'll try the bar." He said. "Maybe get a feel for the town. See if anyone has any local gossip."

Camile nodded. "Guy talk." She said, smiling. "The fact the game's on wouldn't affect that would it?"

Brody grinned. "It's always a good point to start a conversation. Don't work too hard."

He knew that the pizza and the early night would mean two hours reading notes and files.

 

xxxoooxxx

 

Brody walked into the bar. It was early and still quiet, there was a young man behind the bar polishing glasses and putting them on a shelf behind the counter, an older couple sitting in a booth eating and Doctor Rush sitting at the bar, a drink in front of him. Brody walked towards the bar and the young man put down the cloth and walked over.

"Hi, you must be the FBI guy."

Brody nodded.

"Brody." He introduced himself.

"I'm Becker." Said the young man.

"You made our sandwiches yesterday morning." Brody said.

Becker laughed.

"Not me, my older sister, but my business yeah. The deli next door's mine too."

Brody looked impressed. "Doing well for yourself." He complimented.

Becker grinned. "I like food, I like feeding people. Made sense to make it my business." He gestured at the bar. "Can I get you something or is this business?"

Brody took a seat at the bar, leaving a single stool between him and Rush.

"I'll have a drink." He said.

Rush looked over at him and Brody ducked his head uncomfortably, the man's glower was practically flammable.

"Agent Brody." Rush said.

Brody nodded. "Just Brody, or Adam when I'm not working." He said.

"Get him a drink." Rush said to Becker.

Becker raised an eyebrow in enquiry and Rush made a vague gesture at his own glass. Becker turned, poured something into a tumbler, Brody couldn't see what, and put it down neat in front of Brody. There was a distinct smell of whisky. Brody picked it up cautiously and took a sip. It was strong and tasted smoky, smooth and very expensive.

"What is it?" He asked.

"Laphroaig." Rush said shortly. "Single malt."

Becker laughed as Brody took another small sip.

"Forty eight percent alcohol," He warned, "watch yourself."

Brody looked at Rush. He didn't look drunk, but there was a slight glassy edge to his eyes that suggested he'd had more than one drink.

"You eating?" asked Becker. "Just if you want anything that's not burger and chips, sandwiches or the special if we've any left, then ask me now before I let my sister go home to her no good husband and kids."

Rush snorted, Becker grinned.

"What?" asked Brody.

"You spoke to him this afternoon." Rush told him. "Volker."

Brody realised there must be some sort of joke here he didn't understand as the mild mannered and highly qualified scientist he'd met earlier didn't appear to meet any criteria that would fit the definition of no good husband.

"I've never seen a man more henpecked." Said Becker. "Anyways, do you want dinner?"

"What's the special?" Brody asked.

"Chicken casserole with fresh bread."

"I'll have that."

Becker disappeared off out back and Brody sat with the scientist sipping at his drink.

"What's your qualification." Asked Rush finally.

"Engineering originally." Brody said.

This elicited another snort from Rush.

"I got involved in dealing with the structural impact of fires and explosions, kind of accidentally," Brody continued, "got into research on fire and bomb damage about fifteen years back, then on analysis of evidence from buildings and structures at crime scenes of terrorist and arson attacks. I now consult for the FBI on fires and explosions."

The research background seemed to mollify the scientist a little. Brody wasn't quite sure why he felt he wanted the man's approval, but squashed the idea ruthlessly.

"Sonja Damji's our explosives researcher." Rush said after a moment. "Works a lot with Greer. He's meant to be one of the security, but he's an ex-marine, fired things and blew things up for a living. We keep stealing him for the lab and the test site. Pisses Telford off no end."

Rush laughed nastily and Brody had the distinct impression that pissing off Telford was one of the high points of Rush's life. Rush drained the last of his glass and as Becker came out, gestured for another. Becker put the plate of food he was carrying down on the bar.

"You want it at a table?" he asked Brody.

"No," Brody demurred, "here is fine if you don't mind."

"No problem." Becker grinned and walked off to collect the plates of the elderly couple.

Rush got up, walked round the bar, poured another glass of whisky, and waved the bottle at Brody. Brody shook his head, indicating his half full glass, he raised an eyebrow at Rush.

"My bottle." Rush said, coming back round the bar and sitting down.

They sat in vaguely companionable silence as Brody ate the extremely good casserole. Becker returned and walked past them into the kitchen with empty plates. Another couple of customers, a man and a woman came in and sat in a booth. Becker appeared from the kitchen and went out to serve them, taking over drinks and nipping a food order back to the kitchen. A very tall and extremely pretty woman maybe a little older than Becker with cornrows dropping into long beaded plaits, walked out from the back with a plate in her hand. She scanned along the bar, spotted Rush and walked up to him. She put the plate down in front of him.

"Eat Doctor." She ordered.

He looked up at her and scowled at her, then down at the sandwiches in front of him.

"That is not negotiable." She said firmly. "You eat your sandwiches."

There was a moment of tension as she stared him down, then he caved and picked up a sandwich. Becker smiled.

"Leah always wins." He murmured. "Bacon sandwiches get him every time."

"Does he drink like this often?"

Becker shook his head. "Not usually. He's had a pretty rough time recently, what with everything that happened up at the plant and the fires."

"He knew some of the victims?" Brody asked quietly, taking a sip of whisky.

Becker leaned in to talk to him, but Rush seemed to be oblivious, steadily munching his way through the sandwiches.

"Who doesn't?" Becker asked. "He worked with Dr Caine for several years, everyone knew David Walters, he's been the only lawyer in town for years, it's a small town. The Baras's were well known, they owned the apartment he rents, and to be honest the apartments that half the staff at Icarus rent, if they're out of towners."

Becker stood and took Brody's plate, stepping back.

"Casserole good?"

"Excellent." Said Brody. "You cook a good casserole."

Becker grinned and took the plate out back. A few more customers came in and Becker bustled round, serving drinks and food. His sister stopped to serve a few more meals then wrapped herself in a thick parka and with a wave and a smile at Brody and Doctor Rush left. Brody nursed his drink, keeping an eye on the game playing silently on the TV. Next to him Rush finished his drink and poured himself another whilst Becker was busy with other customers. This one disappeared in a reasonably short amount of time and Becker poured Rush another one at his request. Brody wondered if Becker knew how much Rush had actually had to drink.

He sparked up a conversation about the game with a young man who sat down next to him, apparently called Riley, but before he could move the conversation on any further the man's friends arrived and spirited him off. Brody turned back to the bar. Rush was still there and his glass was full again. Brody watched the man as he stolidly worked his way down the glass. The man was putting some serious effort into getting drunk. Even Becker noticed his state when he next came back up the bar.

"I think you've had enough now." He said to Rush.

Rush scowled at him, but slid off his stool, grabbing the bar and swaying slightly. Becker looked at him.

"Are you gonna be alright?" he asked the drunken man.

"I'll be fine." Rush said.

He wasn't slurring but his accent had thickened. Brody looked towards the front of the bar and the windows out onto the street. Snow was coming down in sheets. Becker followed his gaze. They both looked at Rush who didn't appear to have any coat except his brown jacket.

"Look…" said Becker.

"I'll be jest fine." Repeated Rush sharply.

"Where're you going?" asked Brody.

Rush glared at him, but the slight sway took the edge from his aggression. Brody handed Becker enough money to cover his meal and drink and gestured at the tips jar for the change.

"He's in the apartment block two blocks down." Becker said. "It's on the way to the motel. Two hundred and seven."

Brody looked at the scientist.

"Come on, I'll give you a lift. It's nasty out there."

Rush didn't seem inclined to move, but Brody stuck his arm under Rush's and the man appeared to decide coming along was the easy option. Brody shepherded him out and got him into the passenger seat of the rental car. Rush fumbled and managed to buckle himself in, but as Brody pulled out of the car park seemed to fall asleep. The snow was still falling heavily and Brody had to drive slowly, not only because of the conditions, but in order to ensure he actually saw the apartment block. Rush drowsed in the passenger seat, occasionally snoring quietly. Peering through the driving snow, Brody eventually spotted what looked to be a four storey block of apartments, set a little back off the road. He reached over and gently shook the sleeping scientist.

"Is this it?"  He asked.

Rush struggled to sit up straight, looking confused as to where he was. He blinked at Brody in confusion before comprehension dawned.

"Agent…"

"Is this your place?" Brody repeated. Rush squinted out the car window.

"Aye."

He struggled to undo his seatbelt, fumbling ineffectually with the buckle until he finally got it loose.

"Do you need a hand in?" Brody asked cautiously.

He didn't think the scientist was a man who accept help graciously.

"Of course not." Snapped the other man.

Brody got out of the car and walked round to the other door. Despite the fact that it had been cleared out here when he had driven past earlier, there was already two inches of snow around his feet. He opened the door for the other man, then turned to look at the apartment block, shielding his eyes with his hand from the snow. At almost ten o'clock at night some of the windows were already dark, but as his eyes scanned the windows, he could see some people were still up, some windows still lit. His eyes settled on a window. Warm flickering light. Orange and yellow. He turned back to Rush.

"Your keys!"

"What?"

"Give me your keys and get back in the car."

Rush gave him an angry look. There was a crash and a whumpfing noise and the flames hissed out into the snowy night.

Brody didn't hesitate, left Rush in the still running car, ran to the door, smashed the glass with the butt of his gun and reached through to open it. He registered Rush behind him as he yanked out his mobile and phoned it in.

 "911, what is your emergency."

 "This is FBI Agent Adam Brody, I'm at…

 "Two-oh-seven Main Street." Rush supplied.

 "Two-oh-seven Main Street, Destiny. I need fire and probably paramedics. At least one apartment is alight and I am evacuating the building."

 He rang off. Rush was already banging on a door ahead of him and he followed him, banging on doors, getting people awake and out.

The stairwell was beginning to fill with smoke but neither of them paused as they ran up to repeat the process on the second, third and fourth floors.

"Who should be in the burning apartment." He gasped to Rush as they finished the top floor.

Rush was coughing but paused long enough to gasp back.

"No-one, it's mine."

"Fuck."

Smoke was now coming up thick and fast, the stairwell acting like a chimney, drawing the smoke up thickly from Rush's burning second floor apartment. Covering their mouths with their cuffs, they shepherded the last of the occupants out and staggered out into the snow, coughing and gasping. He reached out but failed to catch Rush as he collapsed on his knees in the snow. The other man threw up comprehensively, whisky and the remnants of bacon sandwiches melting the snow. Rush knelt up again, swaying, the adrenaline wearing off and leaving him simply drunk again. Brody handed him a handful of clean snow and the man scrubbed at his face with it.

"Come on." Said Brody. "We'd better move back."

He hauled the unresisting scientist to his feet by one arm and practically dragged him off to where the car was parked, dumping him in the passenger seat and going to check on the evacuees.

One of the evacuees turned out to have marshalled all the others into some sort of order and as the fire trucks arrived, children were being installed in cars, wrapped in blankets and sleeping bags from the emergency kits everyone seemed to have in the trunk of their car. The adults stood well back in a nervous huddle. Brody approached the organiser.

"Hi I'm…"

"Agent Brody." Said the man.

"Yeah." Brody gave him a rueful expression. "News travels huh?"

The man nodded.

"You're very organised." Brody offered.

"I'm part of the volunteer search and rescue." The man said. "My name's Varro, Mike Varro." He held out his hand to Brody and they shook hands. "Thanks, thanks for getting us up. Tasia and I had just checked on the kids and were taking ourselves to bed."

His eyes flicked to a well used looking SUV with a couple of wide eyed kids of about three and five glued to the windows. A pretty, sensible looking woman in an oversized padded jacket was just closing the boot pulling out what appeared to be a camping stove and a crate of supplies.

"We'll have coffee soon. The truck's always stocked in case we're called out suddenly on a search." Varro said. "How's Nick?"

Brody gave Varro a blank look.

"Doctor Rush," Varro clarified, "he's our next door neighbour."

"I'll go check on him." Brody said looking over at his car. "He's in the car, he'd had a few drinks."

The look Varro directed at the car held a whole world of sympathy that Brody didn't quite understand.

"Tasia!" he called.

She looked over at her husband.

"Another blanket for Nick?"

She nodded and brought over a thick fleece blanket, handing it to Brody. The scientist was still in the car, and despite the fact he appeared to have passed out again, was shivering. Brody wrapped him in the blanket then turned on the car and dialled the heating right up.

He sat himself in the passenger seat and pulled out his mobile. Rush stirred and blinked at Brody.

"Anyone you want me to call?" he asked him.

Rush didn't seem fully awake.

"Have you got anywhere to stay?" Brody tried again. "Any family?"

"First time I saw her, I thought she was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen, she looked just like, just like h..."

The scientist slumped back into his seat and passed out again.

Brody dialled up Camile. It took her a little time to get to the phone.

"Camile?"

"Brody? Is everything alright?"

"I'm sitting outside Doctor Rush's apartment watching it burn." He said.

"Where's Doctor Rush?" The sound of her voice changed as she put it on speakerphone. "Was he inside?"

"Passed out next to me in the car. He was getting himself drunk in the bar and I offered to drive him home. The apartment was alight when we got here. We're at 207 Main Street, the Fire department are on scene already."

He could hear her moving around and getting dressed.

"I'll be there as soon as possible."

There was a knock on the car window. He looked up startled and saw a girl of about twelve dressed in a ski suit holding two cardboard cups that were steaming. He wound down the window.

"From Mrs Varro, Agent Brody." She said handing them over, she seemed very impressed with his title. The smell of instant coffee wreathed up and he took the cups. She fumbled in a pocket, clumsy in mittens and handed over two chocolate bars and a handful of little plastic tubs of creamer and sugar sachets as well.

"Thank you, ah…?"

"I'm Katie Lee." She said, grinning and looking abashed. She giggled and ran off.

He put one of the cups in the cup holder, and carefully holding the other, closed the window. He turned and shook Rush.

"Hey, wake up."

"Mmmph?"

"Wake up Doctor Rush, there's a hot coffee for you here."

He wafted the cup in front of the man and after a moment Rush's eyes snapped open.

"Coffee?" asked Brody.

Rush sniffed.

"Instant." He muttered disparagingly.

"Beggars can't' be choosers." Brody said, holding out the coffee. "It's hot and wet and coffee."

Rush took the coffee, turned down the creamer but added two sugars and stirred it with the pen Brody proffered.

There was a further tap at the window, a small dark woman in a fire-fighter’s uniform and a man who was evidently the chief fire-fighter on scene were waiting in the driving snow. Brody wound down the window again.

"Are you Agent Brody?" The woman asked.

Brody nodded.

"I'm Lisa Park, the fire investigator." She said, "This is Marsden."

Marsden nodded at him.

"You're here early." Noted Brody to Lisa.

"Any fire in Destiny is likely to be something that needs me at the moment, and I was only sitting at home reading anyway." She said.

"Was it you who rang it in?" Marsden asked.

"Yeah, saw it through the window."

Brody looked back at Rush who was sipping coffee and listening to the conversation. He still looked quite drunk.

"I was giving Doctor Rush here a lift back from Becker's."

Marsden ducked his head to look at Rush through the window. Rush blinked at him.

"Mike Varro says it's your apartment, Doctor Rush."

Rush nodded.

"It's gone." Marsden said bluntly. "I hope you were insured."

"Completely." Said Rush.

"When was the last time you were in your apartment." Asked Lisa.

"This morning." Rush said. "I went to Becker's after work."

Brody was impressed with how coherent he was considering how much he'd had to drink.

"We've been in Becker's together since about six." Brody said. "Doctor Rush had a few drinks and I offered to drive him back. When we got here, I pulled in, and when I looked up at the window I could see the flames, just in the one window. I couldn't see them from the road through the snow." The two fire-fighters nodded at him. "That's when I phoned it in and we went in and banged on all the doors and got everyone out. Once we were out the guy…ah…Varro took over organising all the inhabitants and you arrived."

A sheriff's car pulled into the lot and Brody could see it was Sheriff Young and Camile. It pulled up alongside and they both got out zipping up coats, Camile pulling on a fleecy hat.

They walked over to the car, leaning to peer in.

"Camile, Sheriff." Brody greeted them.

"I need you to get yourselves checked over by the paramedics." Young told them.

Brody nodded in acquiescence but he heard a disparaging grumble from Rush behind him. The fire-fighters went back to the others still fire fighting and Young and Camile went over to talk to Varro and the other inhabitants, leaving Brody with Rush again.

"Hey," he said to Rush. "You okay?"

"Someone has just tried to kill me, all my stuff's gone up in smoke and I'm sitting here watching the fire department fill what's left of all I own with water."

Brody nodded, tipping his head slightly with an apologetic look. Rush downed the rest of the coffee with a grimace.

"We'd better go see the paramedics." He said. "I doubt the Sheriff will let up until we do."

The paramedic took one look at their sooty faces and Rush wrapped in a blanket and ushered them into the ambulance. They were checked over and after submitting to being poked and prodded the paramedic pronounced them both as having mild smoke inhalation, but nothing that there was any point treating now half an hour after the fact. Then he gave them a talking to for not coming over sooner.

With instructions to take it easy, and to go straight to the hospital should they show any other effects, the paramedic released them.

"Where will you go?" Brody asked Rush.

"There's an apartment up at Icarus for the family to use if they work late. I've got a key. I've a change of clothes in my office as well, I case I need to go from lab to meetings unexpectedly."

"It seems a safe place to go, and we'll be able to find you tomorrow to interview you." He said. Rush scowled. "I'll get someone to drive you if Young says you're good to go."

"I have the best alibi. Of course he'll let me go."

Brody opened the car door.

"I'd better go have a word with Camile. You stay here."

Rush nodded and to be honest he didn't look like he had any intention of leaving the warmth of the car and blanket.

Brody walked over to where the Sheriff and Camile were having a conversation with the fire chief. He slid in next to Camile, zipping his coat up further and pulling up the hood against the driving snow. It was becoming practically a blizzard.

"How is Doctor Rush?" She asked him.

"Sobering up." Brody said. "He was getting himself quietly but thoroughly drunk in Becker's earlier. Becker himself said it was recently, since the accident and fires he'd been doing that." He looked up at the broken window. "What's the damage like?"

"You called it in pretty quickly." Said Marsden. "The damage was contained in the one apartment. It's all out now. Most of the residents will be able to go back in tonight. The hallways will need cleaning and repainting from the smoke and the Varro's apartment was next door and has a little smoke damage. The Atienza's below have water damage in the living room and the floor of Rush's apartment needs checking before they can be let back in, but it's only really Doctor Rush's apartment that's had any major damage."

"How bad?" asked Brody.

"Well, the hallway is gutted, the living room, the kitchen, and the second bedroom are damaged badly from flame, smoke and water damage., the master bedroom door was closed and because of where it is the flame didn't get in. I'm guessing some of the stuff in there will be salvageable." He shrugged. "We'll have to see if the floor is safe enough, to get stuff out tomorrow, otherwise he could be waiting some time."

Brody nodded.

"He's going to stay in an apartment up at Icarus apparently."

He walked back over to the car. He could see Rush was on his mobile phone as he opened the door Rush looked up, evidently still talking to someone on the phone.

"...stay in the apartment. Yes it will be fine..."there was a long pause in which Brody could hear the high pitched tones of a female voice though not make out any details. "Yes, I'll be fine, there's security on site twenty four seven isn't there..."Rush made eye contact with Brody as he listened. "No, there's no need to tell Telford tonight...well obviously...fine, if you must. Yes, I'll be fine, I'll see you later."

Brody gave him a questioning look.

"Someone phoned Miss Armstrong." Rush said darkly. "Chloe's a little worried, she's lost three members of staff to these fires. She's sending someone from Icarus to get me."

"Is she still at the plant?" Brody asked.

Rush nodded "She's often there, often stays over."

The fire chief wandered over and Brody looked up.

"I think he wants to let you know about your apartment."

"I think I can tell that my flat's a write off." Said Rush, but opened the window anyway.

Brody got back out and went to find Lisa Park. She was pulling equipment and supplies from her van and calling to a crime scene investigator who had pulled up next to her. She and he evidently knew each other well. Brody walked up.

"Any chance I can join you for the walk through?" he said.

"John?" She asked the man who was pulling himself into standard crime scene gear.

"You're the FBI fire guy? Be my guest." He said.

John reached into his van and pulled out another white boiler suit wrapped in plastic, tossing it to Brody.

"Suit up."

 

xxxoooxxx

 

Young watched from a distance as Brody joined Lisa and John Lindsay. Rush was still sitting in Brody's car, and looked asleep, until he got closer and realised the man was doing something with his mobile phone in his lap. He tapped on the window. Rush wound it down.

"I'm quiet the popular one this evening." He said, a little acidly. "Get in, the heat's escaping."

Young slid into the drivers side and pulled the door shut after him. The car began to warm up again quickly. Young stared at the steering wheel for a moment.

"This is the point where I have to ask you if you have any idea who torched your apartment?"

He looked up at Rush, waiting for an answer. After a moment, Rush looked at him, head tilted.

"I have no idea. Honestly, if I did, I'd tell ye."

There was a long pause. Young looked away.

"Will you be alright tonight?" he asked.

"I've a couple changes of clothes at Icarus," Rush said, "for going from meeting to lab or lab to meeting. I'll manage. I'm too drunk to drive, but someone's comin' to get me."

Young nodded.

"Its lucky you weren't at home." He told the scientist. "Would you usually be?"

Rush shrugged.

"It depends. Obviously had I been working on a big project, there woulda been a strong chance I'd ha' still been up at Icarus. Any other week, well…I'd ha' probably been at home."

Young looked at the other man.

"But you were getting drunk." He noted, trying to keep his tone neutral.

Rush gave him a distinctly cold and unfriendly look.

"I'd only recently lost one o' my oldest friends, Sheriff, and then you'd turned up needing, with good reason I'll give you, to bring it all up again. You'll forgive me I'm sure if I felt a like taking a drink. It's not like I make a particular habit of it."

Young nodded.

"Understandable Doctor." He looked up at Rush. "You missed being interviewed by Camile, Agent Wray though. She'll be doubly interested in speaking to you tomorrow now."

Another scowl.

"Well I'll be sure to make myself available."

Young smiled almost apologetically.

"We'll need to take your fingerprints as well, to eliminate them from the crime scene." He nodded towards the building.

"No need." Said Rush, shortly. "Half the Icarus personnel already have their fingerprints on file with various federal and military agencies due to high level clearance and other issues. I've no doubt that your Agents will already have access to mine, though you can take them if you want. We can also release fingerprints from the staff records for you."

Young's brow furrowed.

"Isn't that…?"

"It's in the employment contract, Sheriff. The company reserves the right to release employment records and staff details to legitimately appointed federal or military investigators in the case of a criminal, federal or military investigation. It covers us in case of a security breach." He pushed his hair out of his face. "We work almost entirely military and federal contracts, Sheriff. Chloe can decide to release staff records to Agent Wray."

Young had to admit he was surprised at this revelation. He'd been working as Sheriff here for years and it had never come up before, but he guessed it had never needed to.

"And you're fine with that?"

Rush shrugged.

"What reason would I have to hide anything?"

A large black SUV pulled into the parking lot and pulled up in a nearby space. Young watched as the doors opened and Telford got out of one side and Ronald Greer out of the driver's side. Both were bundled in the thick uniform parkas of the Icarus security staff and Greer held a further one over his arm. Greer snagged a passing youngster with hands full of plastic cups of coffee who indicated the car Young and Rush were sitting in with a nod of her head.

Young would down the window as Telford and Greer walked over. Greer looked his usual amiable self, despite the lateness of the hour, but Telford's face was sour and his chin uncharacteristically stubbled. Young had the impression that he'd been pulled out of bed.

"I'll say goodbye Sheriff," said Rush behind him. "Thank Agent Brody for me."

Telford came up to his window and Greer walked round to Rush's side.

"David." Young greeted him.

"Everett." Telford shoved his hands in the pockets of his parka. "What can you tell me? Miss Armstrong is concerned that another member of her staff has been targeted."

Young shrugged.

"We don't have much information about tonight yet David." Young said. Telford raised an eyebrow. Young shrugged again. "Well Doctor Rush knows all we have so far, so I guess I can speed things up by filling you in."

They both turned to watch Greer firmly hustling the older man out of the car and into putting on the spare parka over his brown jacket. Greer shepherded Rush over to the Icarus SUV, Rush didn't look particularly drunk anymore, just very tired. Young turned back to Telford.

"Rush was drinking in Becker's. Agent Brody went in for dinner and the two talked for some time, which Rush was drinking. Brody offered Rush a lift home and when they got back here Brody spotted the fire. The pair of them woke the residents and called it in, pretty quickly after the fire took hold apparently and the fire department arrived. Agent Brody, Lisa Park and John Lindsay from the state crime lab are doing a preliminary walk through now."

"No-one saw anything then?"

Young shook his head noncommittally. "We only just got the fire out David."

Telford turned and looked at the building, head turning in profile to Young. His face was guarded but there was a tension to his shoulders. Young watched him scan the scene and the apartments. He took a risk.

"What do you know, David? What aren't you telling me?"

Telford turned back to Young a little too quickly. They looked at each other.

"This is a federal investigation now David," Young continued, "withholding information…"

"Yes," Telford interrupted, "and if I had something I could tell you, I would." He took a deep breath, indicating that was as far as he was prepared to go on that topic. "I need to phone in and make a report, Everett."

Telford walked away. Everett sighed, and zipping up his coat got out of the vehicle. He intended to go and check on the progress of the scene investigators, but as Telford walked around the rear of a van, already talking on his phone, he changed course to hover by the far side. He could only hear Telford's side of the conversation but that was enough.

"I kept your father's dirty secrets for long enough. Don't worry," Telford's voice was sarcastic "I don't intend to be dragging you through the dirt now."

There was a quiet burst of a voice from the phone, unintelligible.

"You don't need to threaten me. I know what side my bread if buttered on. We'll be back and the plant in half an hour, weather permitting."

Young heard Telford's footsteps as he ended the call and started to walk away and quickly walked over to find John Lindsay.

Young stayed around the crime scene for a further couple of hours till Matt Scott arrived to take over from him, babysitting the crime techs. Young looked at his watch. Gone four a.m.. The residents of the apartment blocks had all been dispersed to stay with friends or family. Young had a contact list of where they would be for interview and notification of when they could return to their homes. Tiredly he swung past the office to drop off the list, then took himself home to catch a few hours sleep.

 

xxxoooxxx

 

He was woken by his phone ringing. He sat up, dragged himself out of bed and made for the phone in the hallway. The phone stopped as he got within two feet of it, and seconds later, his mobile started ringing in the bedroom. He swore and trotted back to his bedroom, snatching up his phone, registering as he did so the time as 9.47 and that the call was from the office.

"Young."

"It's Becky."

Her voice was calm, but there was an edge to it that suggested something had happened.

"What's up?"

"David Telford was shot. He was found in his car with the driver's side door open on the River road. He was slumped in the driver's seat, a single bullet to the chest."

Young sucked in a sharp breath.

"Is he alive?"

"He's in surgery at the moment at the County General Hospital. It's touch and go though. He was shot in the chest and suffering hypothermia when the paramedics arrived. Ruki Richmond found him."

"Damn!"

Becky sighed. "Yeah. They took her in as well for observation, the shock. She's 34 weeks."

"We need a guard on him."

"Already done."  Said Becky. "I called Vanessa as soon as the call came in. She met the ambulance at the Hospital."

Thank God for Becky, Young thought gratefully.

"Who's on scene then?"

"Agent Wray, she was in the office when the call came in. She's waiting for you."

Young rubbed tired eyes, running his fingers through his already messy hair. He could see it sticking up in the mirror.

"We just don't have the manpower for this, not two major crime scenes."

Becky chuckled.

"That's why you've already sent an email this morning, requesting support from the state police, two officers."

"I have, have I?" Young asked wryly.

"Yep, it was a beautifully worded email."

He couldn't help but chuckle himself. "Thanks, I'll get dressed and get straight out there. Where is it?"

"About four miles past the Jackson place."

It didn't take Young long to dress and grab all his gear. He dug around in the cupboards finding a packet of rather stale cookies and some chocolate, then took a short while to make a large flask of coffee. He piled everything into the back seat of his car, then drove out to the River Road.

The preceding night's snow was a thick blanket over everything and Young was glad of the four wheel drive, the chains on his wheels and the fact the vehicle was stick shift not automatic. The Jackson place was on the limits of Destiny proper, the last house before the forest started in earnest. There were a few houses further out but not many in that direction. Thankfully the snow had stopped for the moment, but the landscape was more white than winter grey.

He took the hill down to the river carefully and in low gear. The river was hard frozen, had been for a good couple of weeks, white with black-grey panes of glassy ice where the wind had drifted the snow away. The bridge over it was a lighter grey, still visible against the snow, a substantial concrete affair with high sides, too many people having gone off the previous wooden bridge in bad weather.

Another two miles on he came across the scene. Telford's car was pulled up on one side of the road and on the opposite side a crime scene van and Agent Wray's hire car were nose to tail with a third car. He could see a crime scene tech, anonymous in a white boiler suit, even bulkier than usual with cold weather gear. Agent Wray was hanging back from the scene, watching wrapped in a ski jacket and salopettes.

He pulled his car in behind Wray's and shrugging into his coat, got out. Wray was waiting for him.

"Did you get any sleep?" he asked her.

"Some," she admitted, "I was intending on getting more, but I got a call on some information being sent over and I gave up at that point. Brody's asleep, he got in later than I did."

Young turned and they walked together to the periphery of the crime scene.

"What can you tell me?" he asked, tucking his hands behind his back. Years out of the military and he still couldn't get out of the habit of dropping into parade rest.

"Mr Telford was found slumped in the driver's seat with a gun shot wound to the chest. By rights he should be dead, but it glanced off a rib and moved upwards through his chest to lodge in his upper chest and missed his major organs. He's a tough man. He was alone and I've checked, he left Doctor Rush and Mr Greer at Icarus."

She gestured at the car full of snow and the scattered flakes on the drivers seat.

"Whoever shot him expected him to die quickly but by the time Miss Richmond arrived, he was pretty covered in snow. The cold might even have slowed his heart and stopped him bleeding out." Wray shrugged. "I'm no doctor."

Young moved round to get a better look into the car without approaching. He wrinkled his nose at the brimstone smell as the CSI took sulphur casts of tracks in the snow. There was a large bloodstain on the drivers seat and a small blood icicle on the steering wheel, but no bloodstains outside the car that Young could see.

"There's no sign of a struggle." He noted.

"Which fits with the other piece of information we have." Said Camile. "I called Icarus to check on Mr Greer and Doctor Rush, as they all left the fire scene together in this vehicle last night."

Young nodded.

"Greer was still on duty," she continued, and said that after they saw Doctor Rush into his apartment at Icarus, Telford took a call on his mobile phone which seemed to surprise him and left immediately. It was a company phone and Miss Armstrong released the phone records to us immediately. He took a single call from a disposable phone at a quarter to six am."

Young looked around as he calculated where he was in relation to the Icarus works. Snowflakes began to drift down slowly again.

"It'd take him three quarters of an hour maybe, to make it from there to here in this weather."

Camile nodded.

"That's what Becky said. Which would make half past seven the earliest he could have been here. Say a quarter to eight to give him time to get out of the building." Camile mused. "The pregnant girl found him at approximately twenty past eight."

Young looked at the snow in the car and the direction in which the snow had been blown generally.

"CSI will have to give a proper estimate, but that snow in the car looks reasonable for half an hour with the door open."

They watched for a while as, having finished taking casts of footprints and tyre tracks in the snow, the CSI started to work across the scene with a metal detector carefully avoiding damaging the sulphur casts. He moved slowly until, not five feet from the car door, he found the shell casing buried in the snow. He turned to look at them.

"Point three two by the looks of it," he said. "small semi-automatic maybe?"

He bagged it carefully and stored it safely with the other evidence.

"And now we need to start looking at hand guns." Said Camile.

"That'll take some time." Young said seriously. "Half of Icarus have a permit to carry concealed, all the security staff and most of the research staff. There's serious security concerns. Those scientists are working on weapons and explosives technology, they're a terrorist's wet dream. There are serious security benefits to being located in a tiny town where everyone knows everyone and strangers stick out like a sore thumb."

Camile nodded.

"Have there been any problems with that sort of thing?"

Young shook his head. "Not here, but I understand it was one of the issues that sunk Carnegie-Wallace."

"What happened?"

"One of their senior researchers was abducted by some fundamentalist Christian group who wanted to blow up a federal building. Ended badly."

"What happened?"

"The researcher killed himself rather than provide information to the crazies. Hung himself three weeks after being abducted."

"I haven't even had a chance to read all the files we've been moving so fast, but let me guess, one of Eli Wallace's family."

Young gave her a rueful look. "Uncle actually, his dad turned to drink and drugs after his kid brother died and eventually bit his gun."

"Which might give us a fit between this and the other crimes?" Camile looked around the scene then shook her head, evidently disagreeing with her own statement.

"I overheard Telford last night on the phone to someone." Young said. "Hadn't even had a chance to write it up yet, just a note in my notebook. Telford was making a promise to keep someone's father's dirty secrets that he'd been keeping for years."

Camile looked at him with interest.

"Well the age must restrict it." She said "Makes it most likely to be Chloe Armstrong or Eli Wallace, although it could still be someone else."

She stared around the crime scene again.

"This just doesn't fit, Everett." She turned back to him. "Why shoot Telford when you want to burn people alive in their own homes?"

Young stuffed his hands in his pockets.

"Telford was living in the guest apartment at Icarus." He said. "I thought he was back home, but maybe he's not. The first power outage left his water pipes frozen and when the power came back on again and thawed everything, his house flooded and shorted out all the electrics. House was unliveable, he's had workmen in there for a couple weeks."

Camile nodded slowly, putting her hands on her hips and surveying the car again through the snow flurries now drifting down.

"So the only way to get him would be to lure him out. Small hand gun, deserted road. You would expect him to die of the cold pretty quick even if the shot didn't kill him immediately."

Young looked up the road.

"Except Ruki Richmond was driving over to her parents place."

They fell silent again watching the CSI work.

"So we need to locate where the call was made from." Young said. "You can get that done?"

Camile nodded.

"And establish who has alibis." She said.

Young's mobile rang. He fumbled it out of his pocket with gloved hands and dragged of a glove to answer it.

"Young."

"It's James, sir."

"What's the news Vanessa?"

"Telford survived the surgery." She said. "They removed the bullet and they're hoping he'll recover."

Young felt the muscles in his shoulders relax from where they had tightened the moment she had started speaking. Camile was watching his intently as they spoke and he put his hand over the mouthpiece to whisper quickly.

"Telford made it." He took his hand away from the phone "Stay with him Vanessa, we don't want whoever had a go the first time to get to him before he wakes up."

"That's what I was going to suggest sir."

Young smiled despite himself.

"Keep me posted. We're drafting in support from the State Police so I'll get someone to relieve you later. Have they said when they think he'll come round?"

"Not yet. He was unconscious on admission and they aren't promising anything."

"We can only hope he'll come round and tell us who shot him."

"I'll keep you posted sir." She promised.

Young rang off and turned back to Camile.

"Telford made it through surgery, but hasn't come round yet. He's been out since he was found."

"Deputy James is guarding him?"

Young nodded.

"Will one guard be sufficient?"

"Vanessa's an ex-marine." Young said with a nasty grin. "Any attempt on Telford would result in a nasty shock for whoever tried it. A quick way to deal with our murderer, but it'd cheat us out of a trial. I want to catch this bastard alive."

They both turned at the sound of a truck on the road. In the near distance the crime lab's tow truck made a careful descent of the slope towards them.

"Scene done?" he asked the CSI.

The man nodded.

"I've got as much as I can without moving the vehicle, and everything on the vehicle that needs to be examined in situ." The man removed his latex gloves, dropped them in a plastic refuse bag duct taped to his truck then held out his hand.

"Vince," he said, "Vince Morrison."

"Everett Young, pleased to meet you."

The man's hands were absolutely freezing and his fingers were past pink and white to being almost blue.

"Coffee?" Young asked.

"I'd sell my soul for a cup." Said Vince.

Young pulled out the flask and some plastic cups, pouring coffee for the three of them and a fourth cup for the tow truck driver, who was pulling up behind and a little way away from Telford's vehicle.  He grabbed the pack of cookies and passed them out.

The tow truck driver wasn't one Young had met before, but the small party shared coffee and a brief chat about the poorness of the weather and roads before, coffee finished, Vince and the tow truck driver set about securing the SUV then getting it on the truck.

After the truck had left it was only another hour before Vince pronounced the scene about as clear as he was going to get it. He packed his gear and accepted another coffee.

"You'll get the lab report as soon as I can get it to you." He said. "With a serial it's priority on everything." His face was grim.

"Thank you Vince." Camile said.

"One thing though," Vince said, "I need to confirm the sizes in the lab, but the only unidentified shoe print I found looked pretty small. It's a partial, toe imprint only, the paramedics crushed the rest treating Telford. I'll have to measure it up, but I'll get it done first."

Camile and Young stared at him.

"You're saying it's a woman?"

Vince sighed and frowned.

"I'm saying at first glance it's a small unidentified print, but I'd keep an open mind."

He turned still frowning, got in his van and left, driving off into the increasing snow. Camile looked at Young, eyebrows raised.

"Do you know how many female serial killers there are?" she asked Young.

Young looked at her, fingers tensing around his coffee cup.

"If everything I've read, and everything I've seen on television is to be believed, not many."

Camile nodded.

"Television is right on that count at least." She took a step back, shaking the last dregs from her coffee cup onto the snow. "I'll follow you back to the office."

They got into their respective vehicles and started the slow drive back to the office.

 

xxxoooxxx

 

"I think my next visit has to be to interview Doctor Rush." Camile said, wrapping chilled hands round the coffee Becky had brought her along with a sandwich.

Young nodded thoughtfully then brought his own coffee to his lips. He blew across the top of it to cool it a little before taking a sip.

"There's no evidence he's done anything wrong, but he's been involved with too many of the occurrences associated with this case. " Young said. "I've been trying to be objective about the man, but there's just something about him that doesn't sit right with me. I've got no evidence to back it up, but I'd swear you'd find out he was a champion liar."

Camile regarded him evenly over the top of her own cup.

"Gut instinct?" She asked.

Young shrugged and looked away.

"I don't think he likes me anymore than I like him, but he's always been civil."

They drank their coffee and ate the sandwiches quickly.

"Where's Brody?" Young asked her as he screwed up the paper his sandwich had come in.

Becky answered.

"He came in briefly around lunchtime to pick up his laptop then went back to the hotel to work with some information he'd been sent." She told them.

They both nodded slowly.

"I'll phone Icarus and arrange to go and speak to Rush this afternoon." She said. "I'll keep what you said in mind."

 

xxxoooxxx

 

Camile waited in the meeting room for Doctor Rush. Whilst she usually preferred to carry out these sorts of meetings on police premises, the lack of facilities in Destiny made that impossible. The Destiny Sheriff's Office had one formal interview room and it looked exactly like what it was, not conducive to a simple discussion.

After about ten minutes she poured herself a coffee and took a pastry from the side table. About ten minutes after that Rush turned up. He poured himself a cup of coffee, added cream or sugar and sat down opposite her with exceedingly bad grace. Camile guessed the man was distinctly hung over.

"How are you feeling this morning?" She asked. "Have you had any aspirin?"

"Shite and yes." He replied curtly.

Camile looked down at her laptop and the screen of notes.

"Fine," she said, "let's get this over with as soon as possible then." Firstly do you mind if I record this? This isn't a formal interview, but it will make it easier for me to make notes later"

Rush shrugged.

"Be my guest, Agent Wray."

Camile took out her Dictaphone, turned it on and set it on the table.

"Okay, firstly I'd like you to explain the circumstances of the accident that killed Alan Armstrong."

In a tight, slightly strained voice, Rush laid out the circumstances of the accident for her. Somewhere between the intense technical information of the scene report and the brief explanation Chloe Armstrong had given it was clear and comprehensible.

His voice cracked slightly when he explained watching Alan Armstrong collapse, clutching his chest over the console and how this brief lapse in the management of the situation resulted in the explosion that killed him instantly.

"They said afterwards he was dead anyway, there'd been fumes released, and there would be…he'd never have made it."

Rush went on to the aftermath of the explosion, the arrival of the emergency teams and, having to vent the room. He didn't look up through the whole story, stayed staring at the table, face hidden by a curtain of hair. When he finally finished he lapsed into silence. Wray went to the side table and poured him another coffee, sitting it down in front of him. He looked up at her through his hair, eyes almost black in the shadow of his face and too shiny.

"I'm sorry Agent Wray, Alan and I were friends most of our lives. He was my oldest friend. I'll admit I took his death hard."

Camile gave him a sympathetic look.

"Understandably so considering your friendship and the accident."

The room suddenly seemed very quiet. Rush picked up the coffee and sipped at it for a short while, evidently composing himself. Finally he sat up straighter and looked directly at her.

"What else did you want to ask?" He asked her.

"We still don't have a firm motive for these murders," Camile said, "but you were one of the intended victims and involved with Icarus. I'd like to ask you about your involvement with Icarus, how did you come to be here?"

Rush sat back in his chair taking a breath in.

"I went to University with Alan," he told her, "I was doing my BSc while he was post grad at Oxford. We used to sit up late, get drunk and talk explosions and science. When he finished and came back here we kept in touch and he was interested in the practical applications of my post graduate research. Once I'd finished he offered me a job."

Camile nodded.

"You were married when you came here weren't you?"

Rush shrugged.

"My marriage didn't survive the amount of time and work I put into Icarus." Rush admitted. "I was building a whole new department and research stream from the ground up." He pushed his hair out of his face. "It was ultimately very profitable for Icarus, but," he sighed, "but not very profitable for my marriage. Gloria left me eighteen months after we got here and divorced me two years later."

Wray made a few notes.

"Are you still in touch with your ex-wife?"

Rush raised his eyebrows and shook his head.

"Not in years," he admitted. "Last I'd heard she had remarried, another musician, but that must be fifteen years or more ago."

Camile made a note to herself to track down the former Mrs Rush.

"I'd like to talk to you about your relationship with Miss Armstrong."

"I'm very committed to the company." The scientist's voice was emotionless as he shuffled the papers into the folder on the desk.

"After our first meeting I saw you with her."

He looked up at this. His expression was guarded.

"In the next room along from the conference room. She was crying and you embraced her."

Rush's expression became a little cold.

"She was crying." He said. "Of course I comforted her."

Camile nodded, but continued.

"It does bring into question the nature of your relationship with Miss Armstrong. Externally your relationship is presented as entirely professional, but what I've seen, and to be honest your whole behaviour, suggests a level of intimacy beyond that."

"Intimacy?" Rush asked his voice flat and definitely unfriendly.

"Yes. Let me be blunt Doctor, are you having a relationship with Miss Armstrong."

An expression flashed over his face, there for only a split second, Camile wasn't sure but it looked like momentary confusion. It was quickly squashed and replaced with fury.

"Agent Wray," he ground out, his voice low and cold, "I have known Chloe her whole life, I'm a friend of the family!"

He stopped and Camile realised he was actually shaking with emotion. He shot her another venomous look. The tense moment was broken by a knock at the door. Camile gave the door an irritated look. There was a tap again and then it opened slowly, just a little before Eli Wallace pushed his head through the gap.

"Um, sorry," he said, ducking his head in embarrassment a little, "err, Doctor Rush, have you seen Ginn?"

Rush visibly reined in his anger.

"No Eli, I haven't seen her since yesterday and she wasn't around when I got up this morning."

Eli's looked concerned.

"Um, we'd arranged to meet for lunch and she hasn't phoned in sick as far as I know."

Rush sighed.

"Check with Stella, she'd have phoned Stella if she was sick, if she's not in and hasn't phoned in get Stella to phone her at home."

Eli nodded and disappeared.

Camile looked at Rush.

"Why the worry?"

Rush scratched his jaw.

"Ginn is in the process of divorcing her abusive husband."

Camile frowned.

"Is her absence a genuine cause for concern?" she asked.

Rush looked genuinely troubled.

"The last time she didn't appear it was because he had apparently kicked the living crap out of her and thrown her from a moving vehicle." He said harshly.

Camile tipped her head and regarded him

"Apparently?"

Rush shrugged.

"Ginn had head injuries and claimed not to remember the assault. But Alan did convince her to start divorce proceedings, and move out into a different flat. Sent Telford and some of the security with her to collect her things."

"When did all this happen?"

Rush paused for a moment, before speaking.

"Five months ago." He pulled out a small leather bound notebook or diary and flicked through. "Yes, five months, she was in hospital for two weeks, and saw David Walters the day after she came out."

Camile typed rapidly into the computer for a moment until Eli tapped on the door and walked back in again. He spoke immediately the words tumbling over themselves to get out.

"I saw Stella, she's not in, she's not phoned in and she's not answering her phone." Eli looked very worried. "She was in yesterday; we arranged to have lunch in the canteen."

Camile stood and pulled out her mobile phone.

"Everett? It's Camile. Can you do me a favour, can you send someone round to check on Ginn..."

She looked to Eli.

"Ginn McNiven." He supplied. "Apartment 3, 45 Rain Street."

She relayed the information.

"Yes, she's not come into work, not phoned in and isn't responding to the telephone and there's some concern about her….yeah, the ex-husband."

 

xxxoooxxx

 

Scott stepped out of the patrol car and up to the building. It was neatly kept, like al the Baras family properties. This one wasn't a purpose built apartment block but a converted saloon and hotel from where there had been a significant trapping and logging industry in the area. The building had been converted into eight small one bedroom apartments, none of them very big, but carefully converted with a lot of original features. He'd seriously thought about renting one himself, but in the end had taken the apartment in the old mission building, larger and slightly closer to the office.

He walked up to the front door and rang the buzzer for apartment 3. There was no name against the buzzer, but it was the only one that didn't have one. He wasn't surprised really. He'd seen what Simeon had done to her when she was in the hospital, no wonder she wasn't going out of her way to advertise where she was.

There was no answer. Hew tried it again a couple of times then stepped back and stared up at the window, apartment three was second floor left. There were no lights on, and as the early winter night was drawing in this was unusual.

He stepped up to the door again and looked at the names, then shrugged and rung apartment one. After a long pause there was a response at the intercom.

"Hello?"

He caught movement out of the corner of his eye and could see an old woman staring at him through parted curtains at the window to his left.

"Hello Ma'am, I'm Deputy Scott from the Sheriff's office, I'm trying to check to see if the lady who lives in apartment three is okay but she's not answering."

He stepped back from the intercom and held his ID up to the window. The old lady pulled out a pair of reading glasses, perched them on her nose and scrutinised his ID carefully, before giving him a good look over the top of the wire rims. The intercom crackled again.

"I'll let you in Deputy, you can go up and check on her."

The door buzzed and Scott let himself into the small entrance lobby. There was a click to his left and the little old lady's door opened a crack. He could see her watching him, peering over the security chain. He walked up the stairs directly ahead, to the next floor.

From the top of the stairs everything looked fine. It wasn't until he got almost in front of the door that he realised that it was open a crack. He pushed it and it swung fully open. The short hallway was empty and the flat quiet. Scott pulled his gun and crept forward into the living room. Deserted. He tried the kitchen-diner, bedroom, bathroom, all empty. The room was deserted. However there was a coat hanging over the back of a chair in the kitchen diner and a purse on the table. He checked the purse, keys, coin purse, mobile phone. No woman left home without their purse.

He pulled out his mobile and called the Sheriff.

"Young?"

"This is Scott, I'm at Ginn McNiven's apartment, she's not here but the door was unlocked and her purse and coat are still here on the table. This doesn't look right."

 

xxxoooxxx

 

"What can you tell me about Ginn McNiven?" Camile asked Young.

"Nice girl." Young said. "Shame she hooked up with Simeon. He was pretty psycho, much older than her." He poured coffee into his mug and sat down at the table. "They were already together when they arrived. Moved into a motel, I have to admit I thought they were drifters but she wanted to settle down by all accounts. He got jobs working in construction and logging, she ended up with a job at the Icarus Plant as housekeeper. They keep some accommodation on site like Rush said, and a couple of hospitality suites, but I think she also managed the canteen staff as well." Young blew on the coffee and took a sip. "So, she did well for herself and he managed, had a hell of a temper on him, always getting into trouble at work, and she was always bailing him out of my drunk tank, but he was a hard worker, always got the job done, would work the most god-awful shifts and not complain, until some poor bastard got on the wrong side of him, so he kept getting hired again, particularly by the logging companies."

Camile sipped her own coffee before she spoke.

"But he was beating her?"

Young shrugged.

"Not that anyone knew until she wound up in the hospital, and of course the Armstrong helped her out. They wanted him to be charged with second degree murder and rape, but I knew I couldn't make that stick so we went with aggravated assault. Better chance of getting a conviction. He made bail but the judge slapped a restraining order on him." Young looked up at her. "At least so far he'd kept to it, it was that or break his bail. We're about 3 weeks from his court date. To be honest, I thought he'd get a jail sentence, but you never know in domestic crimes."

Camile nodded.

"Okay, I'm assuming he's Simeon McNiven?"

Young nodded.

"I'll run him through the database again." She said. "See what I can turn up."

Young shrugged.

"We didn't find much, history of public order offences over the last six years, nothing serious before that."

Camile looked up.

"Don't you find that strange?" She asked. "If he was such a violent man?"

Young looked at her.

"To be honest we weren't looking too hard Camile. It was a domestic, we had a straightforward case against the guy, there wasn't anyone else that could have done it."

"You've got prints. Have you got any DNA evidence from the first case?"

"Of his?" Young thought for a moment. "We didn't need it, but they took a rape kit from her at the hospital, including swabs and fingernail scrapings, we know she fought back. We didn't use it in the case, he was the only suspect, but it's got to be on file at the county evidence locker."

Camile nodded grimly.

"I'll need the case number. Something's not adding up here."

 

xxxoooxxx

 

They'd put out a countywide APB on both Simeon's car and Ginn's but as yet neither had appeared. Simeon's logging company employer, Dann Inc, reported he'd not shown up for work that morning, but Scott had interviewed his co-workers and got nothing apart from the fact that most of them hated they guy and the rest were scared of him.

Camile was on the phone to the county crime lab getting a rush on the DNA results, but four days was still likely to be the best they could expect. Brody had taken the print cards to scan and run through AFIS and Young went back to the evidence from Telford's shooting, thin though it was. Things were getting all too complicated.

A day passed with no real results. Vince Morrison from the crime lab had called to confirm that the shoe print was too partial for a full ID but was almost certainly some sort of women's outdoor hiking boot, size 8 or 9. This was the part that Young hated. The endless teasing through the evidence, no new leads, no changes to the case.

He never felt he was any good at this side of it; the constant criminal investigations over the last few weeks had him struggling with a constant feeling of incompetence. He was good at being a small town sheriff, good at the day to day business of keeping the town running in an orderly fashion, minor crimes and misdemeanours, negotiating between rowing neighbours, keeping the kids in line with out being too much of an ass about it. The science and forensics and the sheer quantity of detail oriented investigatory stuff felt so way out of his league he felt he was floundering, and there were times he felt so damn grateful for Camile and Brody he could have kissed them.

The only real lead was from AFIS. Simeon McNiven was showing up under his prints with about 6 different aliases tagged to the record. Brody was tracking down the records for each name and it held the promise of possible movement on tracking the bastard down. Finally a break.

And then it was Saturday. After a morning in the office, Everett made the call to TJ early afternoon, pleased she picked up so quickly and arranged to come and pick her up at seven. He spent the rest of the afternoon catching up on housework, food shopping and essentials, before getting himself as tidied up as possible ready to go and collect her.

Everett pulled up outside TJ's house. It was a small duplex set a good way back off the road and he pulled up the drive, stopping by the car port. He'd been in his patrol car so much recently it felt weird driving the SUV as if everything was at the wrong angle when he looked at the road, but he managed to park it straight at least. He grabbed the plant from the passenger set.

He climbed out and went to knock at the door. Almost no sooner had he knocked she was there opening it. She stepped back to let him in. Awkwardly he held out the Poinsettia, wrapped with a big red ribbon bow.

"Wrong time of year for flowers." He said apologetically, "but I thought as you hadn't been here long you might like something bright…"

He tailed off feeling awkward. It had seemed much less embarrassing when he had bought it that afternoon. She smiled and her smile seemed genuine, then took the poinsettia from him, admired it and put it down carefully on a side table before leaning in and kissing his cheek, a light brush of her lips across his cheekbone that made him want to shiver and made him glad he'd shaved carefully before coming out.

 "It's lovely Everett." She said. "I like live plants much better than cut flowers anyway."

She was wearing another skirt, calf length again in a dusky rose wool, with a cream blouse and a lacy knitted cardigan in a mossy green. It was very feminine, very pretty and he wondered if she did it deliberately as a reaction to wearing the decidedly masculine paramedics uniform at work all the time. He wasn't complaining, some how it brought out the strong woman in her by it's very contrast and he found himself smiling as she gave her understated make up a last check in the mirror. She was so pretty.

The weather report wasn't to bad so he had decided to chance a trip to Novus, the next town along. The town had a large lake and was set up for outdoor sports and such like and with it's tourist population actually had a half decent restaurant which he was fairly certain TJ wouldn't have been to. It felt a bit more like a real date than an evening in Becker's which was the other option.

"Oh!" said TJ when they pulled up. "Am I dressed up enough?"

Young nodded.

"You'll be fine. Most of the visitors to Novus are here for the countryside and scenery, it's pretty low key on the fashion stakes."

She smiled at him and he held the door for her.

The meal was perfect in his opinion. They'd talked cars over starters, movies over the main course and she'd a little flirtatiously, a little laughingly, offered to share a desert with him to save her waistline, so they'd shared a stupidly large chocolate fudge sundae with two spoons and talked music. Their tastes diverged wildly in some respects but there was enough cross over that he was certain they'd be able to meet in the middle if they wanted to see a movie or chill out to music.

He let her scrape the last of the chocolate syrup out of the bowl, expecting her to lick the spoon clean, for someone watching her waistline her appreciation for chocolate fudge was almost orgasmic. She watched him for a moment, then proffered the spoon.

"Here," she said. "You can have the last taste."

She fed him the last of the chocolate sauce, and he realised he had a stupid dumb grin plastered right across his face.

Back in the car he thumbed through the music to find something they had both agreed on, and Tori Amos floated quietly through the speakers, ever sad but beautiful none the less. The poor conditions made concentration on the road a necessity, but he let his eyes flick briefly sideways to where she sat in the passenger seat, and could see she was relaxed, watching the road and she caught his eye and smiled.

He pulled up outside her house.

"Would you like coffee?" she asked.

"I'd love coffee," he said.

They sat in her lounge listening to something he didn't know, something bluesy with a female vocalist, and drinking coffee and eating biscotti she had found in the cupboard. Talking music again and totally lost in talking with her he hadn't realised where the time was going until he looked up and saw it was twenty past two in the morning.

She followed his gaze.

"Wow." She said.

He nodded.

"I'd better go." He said. "Things have been…well, I'll be working tomorrow."

She nodded with a sympathetic look.

"I'd like to do this again." She said. "This was nice."

He smiled what must have been a pathetically pleased grin at her and she laughed.

"What say I cook you dinner." He said. "I'm no Cordon Bleu chef, but I can manage a decent lasagne."

"That'd be great. I'll check my shift pattern and let you know when I'm free."

She showed him to the door, getting his coat for him from the hall closet.

"I had a great night Everett." She said.

"Me too."

She leant in and kissed him, sliding hands onto his hips and flickering her tongue over his lips till he opened his mouth and let her in. She tasted of coffee and almond sweet taste of biscotti and he wasn't sure how long they kissed before he pulled away.

"I got to go." He said.

She nodded.

"I don't want to." He said. "But…"

"I know," she said, "work…but there's next time."

"Yeah, next time. Bye TJ."

"Sleep well."

He leaned forward for another brief kiss, a press of warm lips in farewell and he slipped out of the door and into the SUV before his willpower broke.

 

xxxoooxxx

 

"You're going to want to see this." Brody's voice broke through Young's reverie.

It was Sunday and it was still snowing lightly outside. There was no new news from Telford and now three crime scenes worth of evidence starting to come in. He had been turning over in his head the various people who had come up in the course of the investigation and the locations of the crime scenes. Sometimes he had found you had to take time to think, not just react.

"What is it?" Young said, not looking up from the map.

"I wasn't actually looking for it, but I've been going through the case files you've got from the gypsies. It just seemed too coincidental. I wanted to check them out before I put them aside. Now mostly they're nothing special but I've run all the names again and this time I've run them with some broader search parameters with variants on the names."

Young looked up

"So you've been through the aliases for Simeon McNiven, none of which had his original birth history attached to them."

"Yeah, doesn't surprise me." Young said, still staring at a map. "So what have you found?"

"I took your searches a bit further yesterday and on one of his aliases Simeon Gates, in known associates is a Kiva Masim."

Young's head shot up and he stared at Brody.

"Kiva?"

Brody nodded. "It only flagged up in my head when I looked over the files for the gypsies again as she wasn't taken into custody." He tapped at the laptop. "And it's not a common first name and the name of the de facto leader of your gypsies."

Young stood and walked over to look over Brody's shoulder.

"But what's more interesting," Brody continued, "is that doing a search on the databases for women named Kiva within a reasonable age bracket and excluding black and other ethnicities that can't be a potential match, it brings up just one. DoB is a couple of years different, but Kiva Luciani is wanted in three states for credit card fraud, and when you look into her history, that record not only has a birth history, she has an older half brother called Simeon Luciani with a full history until the age of twenty six."

"Any other points of correspondence between the two?" Young asked.

"Oh yeah." Brody looked over his shoulder at Young and grinned.

Two clicks of his mouse he brought a series of scanned surveillance photos. They were old, that was evident from the clothes, but what was most interesting was the people who were apparently accompanying the subject of the photos. They were younger, much much younger but still recognisable. Kiva could only have been at most in her late teens, and Simeon, hand on Kiva's shoulder in most of the photos appeared to be in his late twenties.

"That's a familiar pair of faces." Young said leaning over his shoulder.

Brody grinned an impish expression looking up at him sideways.

"Yep. And now those gypsies turning up on the Armstrong's land makes a whole lot more sense huh?"

"Yeah, yeah it does, a _whole_ lot more sense."

"So where is this Kiva now?" Wray asked.

"She wasn't one of the ones who was taken into custody." Young said, with a sigh of frustration. "Her caravan and vehicles were completely clean and there was no reason to detain her." He sat back down. "Of course, the state police were convinced she was the ringleader, but they had no way to prove it."

"And we have nothing specific to detain her on now." Brody mused. "But we can seek her as a potential witness to Ginn McNiven being missing as she's the woman's sister in law."

Young nodded. "I'll put out a BOLO to state police for her vehicles, although I doubt she's in the state anymore."

"You never know." Brody said. "We may get lucky."

 

xxxoooxxx

 

They spent the rest of the day working through the evidence from the fire at the Caine's and Doctor Rush's apartment. It was minimal, and all the available identifiable fingerprints on the door, throughout the apartment and in the communal areas of the apartments could all be identified. One by one they were attributed to residents, close family members who had stated they had been there and volunteered prints, and strangely, a large number of prints in the kitchen, living area and bedroom from Chloe Armstrong.

"I'll phone." Camile said picking up the handset.

Young looked relieved. She felt sorry for him, serial killers were rare and for a small town sheriff, that was a tough break.

"I'll put some more coffee on." He said. "Becky's mom dropped by earlier and left us a pot of chilli we can microwave."

"Yeah, that'll do me." Said Brody, pushing himself to his feet. "Camile?"

She nodded and tapped the phone number in. Stella, Miss Armstrong's secretary answered which seemed unusual on a Sunday. She asked if Miss Armstrong was in.

"Of course Miss Wray, sorry, Agent Wray, I'll put you through."

Camile waited for Stella to put her through to Chloe Armstrong. Icarus' Industries hold music was opera. Not Camile's favourite. Finally there was a quiet beep, a click and Chloe's voice cut in.

"Agent Wray, what can I do for you?"

"Miss Armstrong. Thank you for agreeing to talk to me. I'm sorry to disturb you but I was just wondering about something."

"It's no problem Agent Wray, please ask."

Camile leaned back in her chair. "We've been running all of the fingerprints from Doctor Rush's apartment…"

Chloe laughed quietly, interrupting Camile. "…and you've found my prints in his apartment. Doctor Rush has been a friend of the family for a long time, he was my father's oldest and closest friend. Being honest, though I am sure he won't thank me for this, he had taken my father's death hard. I've been there for him, there's been a couple of times I've taken him home and put him to bed. I've been over there and made him dinner a couple of times as well, last Saturday I was there, the previous Tuesday." There was a pause, Camile thought she heard Chloe swallowing, but maybe she imagined it. "He's like family Agent Wray." She said more quietly.

"Thank you Miss Armstrong." Camile said. "You've been very helpful."

She looked at Brody and Young, listening in silently on the other handsets and put the phone down. Young took a deep breath, held it and then let it out again.

"You believe her?" She asked them, tipping her head a little.

Brody pursed his lips. Young shrugged.

"It fits with what I saw the other night." Brody offered. "And possibly with what you saw at Icarus."

"It's a bit weird, but it doesn't fit with a motive for her to be the arsonist." Young added.

"I agree," Camile said. "I'm not sure what's going on there, but I don't think she's the arsonist. If Mr Armstrong was a murder victim, then maybe I'd think that he'd found out about their relationship and disapproved, but that was an accident."

"I can't find anything that suggests it wasn't." Brody said. He sat back from his laptop. "It's half past six and I'm going round in circles."

Camile sighed and nodded. "You're right." She closed the applications she was working on, tapped a few keys on her computer and it began to power down. "Time to shut down for the evening, look at it all with fresh eyes in the morning."

 

xxxoooxxx

 

Young was already at the Sheriff's office when Camile and Brody arrived the next morning. He was talking to an older woman at the counter. His face was the picture of tolerant interest. The woman looked annoyed and unhappy. Camile avoided looking like she was listening in, but Young caught her eye anyway as she went past with a look that suggested he was getting very bored with this. Becky lifted the hatch for them and they passed through quickly and turned on laptops. Young followed them through about five minutes later.

"Problem?" Camile asked.

"No. Routine." Young said. "She's had a couple of goats go missing."

Camile tipped her head curiously, and Brody snorted in amusement then ducked his head, embarrassed. Young chuckled.

"That's pretty typical round here. People tend to keep livestock if they don't live right in town. There's a good chance they escaped to be honest, but she claims they were secured. I'll get Scott to look into it. He's good with people."

"And animals." They all turned as Becky walked over to Brody. "You got that fax you wanted." She said.

The other two looked at him curiously as he scanned the sheets of paper in front of him. He looked up, suddenly uncomfortable at their scrutiny.

"I pulled a copy of Alan Armstrong's will from probate records." Brody said. "He left 75% of the company, the house and land and most everything else he owned to Chloe Armstrong his daughter," the other two nodded, "he left his wife a significant income for life, enough for her to live extremely comfortably, the capital reverting to Chloe on Patricia Armstrong's death." He paused, grinning.

"Adam!" Camile said warningly, gesturing her hand in a winding up gesture. "Get on with it."

Adam grinned again drawing out the moment. "The other 25% of the company was left to Doctor Rush."

Young stared at Brody in surprise. Camile raised her eyebrows.

"No-one's said anything to us." Young said.

"What, that Doctor Rush now owns twenty five percent of the company? Not a word to me either." Camile said.

Brody tapped the edge of the copy will on the table. At the front desk the phone rang, Becky picked it up.

"I don't think _anyone_ knows." Young said, looking at Brody then Camile. "I certainly don't think the staff at Icarus know."

"Except maybe Telford." Brody said.

Camile nodded, crossing her arms and leaning on the table. "Not entirely surprising I suppose, being as they were old friends, and Chloe Armstrong seems to credit Doctor Rush with a good amount of credit for the company being in the position it is without him taking a lot of credit. It would possibly explain the conversation on the phone, and the bad atmosphere between Telford and Rush."

Young opened his mouth to agree and paused as Becky called over.

"Err Sheriff,"

"Becky?" Young turned to look at her.

"That was state police about your BOLO. They found one of the cars that Kiva Masim had with her on the Armstrong estate. A 1989 green station wagon. It's in the parking lot of a motel on the Interstate. Apparently it's there with a guest going by the name of Simon Lucas." All three were standing as she held out a phone message sheet. "This is the address. State police are watching the building."

 

xxxoooxxx

 

The roads were bad to say the least and it took them almost an hour to drive out to the Interstate in Young's SUV. Young was on and off the radio, but it appeared that there was no movement at all at the motel and the State Police were keeping a low profile.

Camile was calm in the passenger seat as always, but Brody was restless and twitchy in the back of the car. He always felt like that turning up to a potentially violent scene. He guessed it wasn't a good trait in an FBI officer, but he always managed in the moment. Anyway, he was an engineer and consultant first, actually becoming an agent for the FBI had come much later in life.

The snow had stopped by the time they got to the interstate, but the sky was still overcast, with heavy clouds that threatened more. It wasn't far down the interstate to their destination and they pulled in not five minutes later.

The motel was run down and dilapidated looking. There was a smattering of cars and trucks in the parking lot and a couple of large haulage rigs. The state police were parked on the far side of one of these, largely invisible from the motel. Young pulled in next to them. They got out and walked over to the car. Young nodded in greeting and Wray and Brody waved ID.

"Sheriff." One of the officers greeted them.

"Mackie, Lougheed. What's happening?"

Mackie shrugged. "Nothing so far. The receptionist said that Lucas, or whatever his name is, arrived alone two days ago and he's been in his room since he went in there last night, he's not been out since. He hasn't ordered any food and hasn't used the phone. He's been very quiet."

Brody looked out over the motel again. There were few people moving around the motel at this time in the morning on a Monday. He guessed people either had already left if they had to travel for business or were not moving on yet due to the weather. The snow was as thick here as it was in Destiny, but in the parking lot it was a mixture of mud and grey slush. Closer to the motel buildings, someone had made a desultory attempt to clear the pathways, mounding it up in greying gritty heaps at the edges of the paths and against the bottom of walls. A small snowman was incongruously perched on one of the mounds, two feet high, whiter than the filthy grey heap it rested on with cigarette butts for mouth, nose and eyes.

 "'Kay, I'm gonna go have a quick chat with the receptionist before we go and have a word with Simeon." Young said turning to look at Wray questioningly. "Coming?"

She nodded.

"I'm going to take a look at the car." Brody said.

Young patted Brody on the shoulder and he and Camile walked calmly across the car park. He watched as they walked over to the motel office, then casually walked along the edge of the parking lot, staring out at the vehicles still passing on the interstate and fishing in his pockets as if for a packet of cigarettes or a lighter. Simeon's car was the battered station wagon about ten feet away. It was a mess, the sills were rusted, it looked like the rubber seals round the windows were perishing, and the paintwork had dents and scrapes all the way down both sides of the car. He couldn't see the front of the car from here but from this close he could see the back fender was held on by a piece of wire wrapped round the drivers side end.

He walked a few more steps then leaning his hip on the back of the car, dug deeper in his pockets as if he was trying to find something buried deeply or missing. In the back of the station wagon he could see a heap of what looked like a large heap of blankets and clothes. He gave up on the pockets of his coat and rummaged under his coat to shove his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

The car bounced slightly, battered suspension creaking under his rummaging and as it did so, even in the icy cold winter air a faint but sickly sweet smell emerged. Glancing vaguely down as he delved into another pocket as if unfocussing his eyes to focus on tactile sensation, he noticed a dark mark at the edge of the heap, black-brown and tacky looking.

"Damn." Brody swore.

He took his hands out of his pockets, unzipped his coat and pulled out a pair of latex gloves. Pulling them on he tried the catch on the truck. It was locked, but seemed loose and on the off chance he gave it a good yank. The back of the car popped open and the nauseatingly sweet smell of decaying flesh hit him. Cautiously he lifted the edge of the blanket a little way to expose a foot in a training shoe, pink and green, stained with foulness.

Brody stepped away for a moment to calm his rebelling stomach then closed the trunk and walked back to the SUV, hoping he looked like he had left his cigarettes in the SUV. As he passed behind a large trailer rig he pulled out his phone.

"Answer, come on, answer." He muttered as Camile's mobile rang.

"What is it Brody?" She asked immediately she answered.

"I have a horrible feeling I've found her." He passed a truck driver, and dropped his voice. "I've just taken a look at his car and it smelled...well, it smelled like you'd hope it wouldn't. Probable cause so I took a look and there's a body in there, whether it's her I don't know, I didn't want to disturb the scene any more."

"Alright, suit up, we'll be there in a moment. We'll go in and get him." Camile's voice was firm and authoritative.

Quickly he walked back to the car, opening the trunk and unzipping the kit bag. Concealed by the back of the SUV he slipped out of his coat and shrugged into a bullet proof vest, zipping his coat up quickly over the FBI logo.

"Lougheed and Mackie is it?"

"Yup." Lougheed replied.

"There's a corpse in the station wagon. Call it in then make sure no one disturbs it. We're going to go in and get Simeon."

Brody stepped out around the cab of the truck, taking a few steps out into the parking lot. He could see Camile and Young walking out of the office. To his left, a further figure walked around the corner of the building, tallish, rough looking with a shaved head, bundled in a parka. Simeon. There was a moment where Young and Camile glanced sideways at the movement, and a second of recognition as they recognised Simeon. It was immediately evident that Simeon recognised Young.

There was a familiar feeling in Brody's chest and stomach as the adrenaline hit, vision clearing and focussing.

Brody watched as Simeon flinched back, looking to see how far he was from the corner of the building, but he was several steps past it. Simeon's mouth moved but Brody was too far from them to hear, as Simeon pulled a gun out from his pocket and fired at Young. The cry seemed faint and distant as blood bloomed on Young's shoulder and Brody's eyes slammed back to Simeon, not waiting to see what happened to Young, Camile was with him. Gun still in hand Simeon spun and took off at a run. Brody span back to the still open SUV, grabbed spare clips and a radio from the bag, slammed the trunk shut and sprinted after Simeon.

The snow crunched and slid under his feet as he pounded after Simeon and he was glad he had forgone his usual shoes in favour of the hiking boots Camile had recommended before they came.

A slamming noise from round the corner of the building suggested that Simeon had gone back into his motel room. The door was a little open, as if it had banged shut and bounced, rather than the lock catching. _Cheap assed hardware here,_ Brody's threw out the thought slightly inappropriate for the situation, _how many fire violations would I find in this building if I looked?_

Brody approached the door cautiously, listening before looking round the edge, gun raised. The room was simple, bedroom with a double bed, bedside cabinet, desk and chair, not even a wardrobe. A bag of clothes and other items had been upended, strew across the bed. Brody ignored it and focussed on the door, slightly ajar, which led off the back wall no doubt into a bathroom. There was a crashing sound from behind it and Brody swung into the bedroom, striding for the door, but by the time he kicked it open, the bathroom was empty.

The bathroom window was open, almost wrenched off it's hinges where Simeon had evidently forced it off it's hinges further than it should go. Well it should open fully to allow escape from fire…Brody shoved the thought down and left the room running out and round the edge of the building.

At the end of the parking lot Simeon had disappeared into the woods. Following, Brody struggled over a slight bank only for his feet to slide out from underneath him as the flat snow on the other side turned out to be covering a ditch.

" _I'm going to break a leg or kill myself!_ " He thought, hauling himself out.

A wallowing hole in the snow not ten feet away suggested Simeon had done the same as him and he followed the footsteps in the snow into the woods. From the marks in the snow it was clear where Simeon had floundered and he was able to avoid some of the obstacles though not all. The constant scanning from path to woods slowed him down and made it hard to focus on either where he was walking or where Simeon was.

The shot missed him by inches, striking chips of bark from a tree beside him. Brody dropped reflexively. Damn he wasn't cut out for this. This was not good, not good at all. He scrabbled crabwise, sideways into better cover. Where the hell was Simeon. Now he was not moving he realised that they had been moving parallel to the interstate, his sense of direction finally kicking in in the thick woods. He hated the woods, why the hell couldn't Simeon have stayed in a town, or a city. He moved sideways towards the interstate, keeping low, trying to work out which of the mounds ahead of him where humps in the ground, and what was snow covered bushes.

He heard movement ahead of him and froze, ducking behind a snow bank, wishing to high heaven it was a solid lump of ground and not a snow covered bush. As he ducked another shot rang out and slammed through the snow covered bush, shaking snow from it and revealing leafless branches.

"Holy fuck!" Brody swore.

He stood and took a shot, the cover in front of him useless, trusting the shots would make Simeon duck and stop firing long enough for him to find better cover, get behind a tree. However, as he stood firing he saw Simeon twisting off into the trees again and he slid out from his cover to follow before he lost him.

Stumbling over obstacles concealed under the snow he tried to keep Simeon in his sights, but the man was evidently more practiced at running through snowy woods, or probably woods at all than he was. Somewhere behind him he could hear more footsteps and swearing, in two voices that he thought was almost certainly the Sheriff and Camile, probably following his back trail, he had left a big enough one. He did not dare turn to look at them though as he was struggling to see Simeon and would not risk losing him.

Ahead of him Simeon disappeared. Brody cursed and ploughed on faster. He was going to get himself shot like this but at this point frankly he did not care, he was going to get that murdering bastard.

As he bulled his way through snowy brush, already partly cleared by the passage of another body, the ground suddenly opened out ahead and below him. He grabbed wildly for a branch and narrowly missed sliding down an incline into a moderate depression in the woods. The muddy skid marks in the snow, mustard yellow smears of clay in the white, showed where Simeon had slipped and stumbled down, and smashed ice showed at the bottom where he had gone through the ice of an apparently shallow pool. Faster than his brain could process the sounds he was hearing, Brody's eyes followed the scrapes and footprints where Simeon had pulled himself out and staggered across the ice to the other side and saw Simeon hauling himself over the lip of the depression.

He fired without thinking, his shot going awry from his poor balance and bad position, but saw the man flinch and red bloom on the snow as the shot caught Simeon in the thigh. Simeon dragged himself out of sight over the muddy edge.

Brody ducked back out of sight, before Simeon could turn and start shooting from cover. He had hit the man in the leg, but he was pretty certain Simeon was crazy enough not to let that stop him turning round and shooting Brody rather than do anything about it. He considered his options, going across the pond was likely to get him shot, so his only option was to circumnavigate. He pulled back through the brush a little and looked around.

He could not hear the voices behind him anymore, but could hear the interstate off to his left. It was not far distant from the sound of the cars, which seemed to be moving surprisingly fast considering the snow, or maybe they just sounded that way. The sound would have given him better cover to try and sneak up on the criminal, but the brush was simply too thick to get through and he knew Simeon would already be on the move. He went right, trying to move as quietly as possible, testing his footing as he put each foot down, listening hard for the sound of someone moving.

He heard nothing, no voices no footfalls. The only sound he could hear was his heart hammering in his chest and the sound of his laboured breathing. He tried unsuccessfully to calm it as he pressed on through the silent woods.

It was hard to judge how far round the pond he was, failing to gauge his distance he was reduced to waiting to see where the snow was disturbed, to hear a movement or a shot.

The red in the snow cut through the otherwise monochrome landscape, a bright indicator shouting it's presence in his vision. It was a significant pool in an area of pressed snow, scraped and compacted where a body had fallen then pulled itself up. The footprints moving away from it were decorated with red spatters and showed drag marks where an injured leg had struggled to perform.

His heart surged, maybe now he'd have a chance to catch the bastard. He moved faster, worrying less about getting shot, following Simeon's now even more obvious trail. It was pulling to the left and he realised that the man was making for the road. Simeon needed out of here, needed a car. He needed to catch up with him before Simeon added car jacking and hostage taking to his list of offences.

The brush thinned and as it had before, suddenly opened out onto the snow covered shoulder of the interstate. Simeon was standing ahead of him, gun pointing directly at him. Behind him two cars passed, seemingly ignorant of the danger he posed.

"Officer." Simeon called. He had a strange accent Brody couldn't place.

"Agent." Brody called back, keeping his own gun trained on Simeon.

"Interesting." Simeon called. "It's been a while since I have had any dealings with the federal authorities."

"Your sister did though."

"Not Kiva, she's too smart."

Brody laughed. "Smart enough to let her people take the fall for her."

"Well, it was not as useful as it should have been." Simeon said. "The Armstrongs do not intimidate easily. As a distraction it failed."

"Distraction for what?" Brody asked.

"Uh-uh Agent," Simeon's voice held humour in the negative tone, "I am not going to let you keep me busy till your friends arrive. This time I got what I wanted, and now I am leaving."

"Give up, Simeon." Brody called. "Turn yourself in and don't make me have to shoot you."

Simeon laughed harshly, flinching slightly as his injured leg gave a little. "I think not Agent!"

He fired at Brody. Brody threw himself to the side, knowing it was too late anyway, but Simeon had missed him, unsteady on his feet and as he moved up to take his own shot Simeon was staggering away so Brody could see the large red stain on the snow where he had stood.

Brody took his own shot, but Simeon's lurching pace meant he caught him in the arm. It knocked Simeon sideways a little, but simply seemed to spur him to greater effort. With a roar, Simeon picked up his pace and ran into the road, pointing his gun at the driver of the next car approaching.

Brody saw it all as if it was in slow motion. The terrified look on the face of the driver, the jerk as the man slammed on his brakes in horror, the twisting, sliding spin of the car as it succumbed to physics and spun desperately out of control -

The crunch as it hit Simeon, crushing him under it's unstoppable motion.

Brody ran out into the road, approaching the man cautiously. Simeon lay on his back on the dirty asphalt, as Brody stood over him, gun pointed at the man's head. There was blood everywhere and as Simeon took a wet, bubbling breath, more dribbled from his mouth. Brody took a deep breath, and watched as the life faded from the man's eyes.

Behind him he heard movement and Camile and Young pushed their way through the brush onto the verge.

"Are you alright Adam?" Camile called.

Brody suddenly felt his shoulders slump with exhaustion as the adrenaline ran out all in a rush. "Yeah." He called back. "But you should check the driver of the car, he spun out and hit Simeon."

Camile immediately made for the car, where the other driver was now struggling out through the passenger door.

"That him?" Young said, walking towards him.

Brody nodded. "He's dead. Not me, I only hit him in the leg and arm. The car hit him."

Young looked at the car then down at Simeon.

"He tried to car jack him." Brody said. "Driver panicked, slammed on the breaks and lost it."

"Go sit down." Young said.

Brody nodded. He looked at his gun, still in his hand, then unloaded the clip and handed it to Young, before walking away and collapsing to sit on the edge of the asphalt.

The two state police officers, Mackie and Lougheed, arrived, followed by more, and scene of crime. At some point someone moved him to sit in the open door of a police cruiser and brought him a cup of coffee which he drank. He gave a description of what had happened from when he to Camile and a state police officer and was given a brief check over by a very blond, very pretty paramedic, who told him he was just all worn out with stress and exertion, and needed to eat and sleep.

 

xxxoooxxx

 

"What happened to you?" TJ asked him.

"I got shot in the arm." Young said, gritting his teeth as she moved the pad over the wound.

"Okay, relax." TJ said. "I'm going to cut your shirt away."

"Damn." Young said.

"Why?"

"I like this shirt."

TJ smiled. "Maybe I'll buy you another as a present."

Young heard a snort from Cole, TJ's partner and when he caught her eye over TJ's shoulder, Cole was grinning as she checked over the driver of the car, who luckily was more shaken than anything. 

He winced as she lifted his arm a little and cut away the sleeve of his shirt with emergency shears, the scissor blades cutting cleanly through the fabric like it was tissue. Young made a face.

"It does have a bullet hole in it already you know. " TJ said with a chuckle. She examined the wound. "Okay. It's a nasty bullet graze." She moved to get a better look and he hissed as her motion moved his arm again. "Sorry. The good news is though, that I can clean and dress this here and you'll be good to go. Up to date on your tetanus? You look like you've got some dirt in this."

"That'll be falling in a ditch in the woods, snow hides everything," Young said ruefully, "but yeah, it's good. How's Brody?" He asked, looking over at where the small man was sitting looking absolutely drained in one of the state cruisers.

"Just worn out." TJ said, wiping down his arm. "Physically and emotionally. He's had a hard stressful time, and I get the impression that he's not used to this kind of thing. Isn't he an FBI agent?"

"Yeah," Young said, "but he investigates fires, I don't think he has to chase homicidal gun wielding maniacs through snowy woods very often."

TJ nodded. She taped a dressing in place and stepped back. "Okay, I'm done here, and we gotta take Mister Covel here to the hospital for a proper check up."

"Okay." Young said. "I'll be in touch yeah?"

Behind TJ, Cole rolled her eyes. TJ blushed a little, the flush evident on her fair skin.

"Yeah," she said. "I'll look forward to it."

 

xxxoooxxx

 

Back at the office once evidence was collected, statements were taken and Camile had sent Brody back to the motel to shower, eat and sleep, Young and Camile sat down with coffee and turned on computer and lap top.

"How's Brody?" Young asked. "He looked pretty shook up."

"It's the first time he's had to shoot anyone." She said with a sigh. "He's seen a lot of bodies and he's been there when I've shot someone, but he hasn't had to do it himself before. He's certified on the range, but he's an engineer when it comes down to it, Everett."

"Harsh." Young agreed.

"I'll go check in on him later." She said. "After he's had some time to rest."

"You work together a lot?" Young asked.

"For the last three years. Mainly arsonists." She said. "But also mail bombs and the like. He's a good guy. We work well together."

Young nodded. "Friends then as well as colleagues."

She smiled. "He did last Thanksgiving with my partner and I." She said.

She opened her email and started to work through messages. Young stopped what he was doing as she sat back in her chair and looked at the screen with a slightly troubled expression.

"The first report is back from the crime scene people." She said. "I have an email from Vince Morrison."

Young stood and walked over to look at the screen over her shoulder. "What does he say?"

"Three useful pieces of information." Camile said. "He managed to take enough of a tread pattern from the partial shoe print to identify it as a women’s hiking boot, size eight, made by Nike. Definitely not what Ruki Richmond was wearing."

"That narrows down the field a lot." Young said. "What else?"

"The bullet removed from David Telford was a positive match to one of the samples provided by Chloe Armstrong. It matches a hand gun provided by Icarus to Dr Caine."

"I didn't realise they kept records like that." Young said.

"It appears Icarus are very thorough."

"Or that they expect that their guns will be used in situations where their bullets will need identifying."

Camile turned her head and looked up at him. "I guess that's also true."

Young raised his eyebrows and shrugged. "So, what's the third piece of information."

"Tyre marks." said Camile. "Morrison has identified the make of the other car that pulled up near Telford, there's only one registered in the district."

"Who's it registered to?"

"Chloe Armstrong." Camile said. There was a pause as they looked at each other. "I've already emailed back, we need a warrant to examine Chloe Armstrong's vehicle for direct comparison of the tyre prints and evidence."

"Do we know what size shoe Chloe wears?" Young waited for the answer, as Camile scanned through information.

"It's in the exclusion data she gave for Rush's apartment. Size eight."

They looked at each other.

"This just doesn't make sense." Young said. "I'm going out on a limb here. But it doesn't make sense."

"Revenge for her father's death?" Camile asked.

Young shook his head. "That answers Caine and Rush, maybe if you squint would be a reason for Telford, but the Barasses and David Walters..." He paused, shrugged. "There's no connection that I can see to his death. And some how the way that Chloe is around Doctor Rush, I can't see her wanting to kill him either."

"I don't think we can connect Simeon Luciani to this either. I can't see any motive that he would have for these." Camile said.

Young wandered over to the coffee percolator and poured another cup.

"There's Patricia Armstrong." he offered.

Camile shook her head. "We hit the same problems with her that we do with Chloe Armstrong." She said, standing, hands on hips. "Revenge motive for her husbands death works for Caine, Rush and maybe Telford, but the Barasses and Mr Walters are anomalies."

She proffered her cup and Young filled it.

"There's something we're missing here." Young ran his fingers through his hair and grimaced. "Something that we just aren't seeing."

"You think someone is hiding something?" Camile asked, tilting her head.

Young stared at the wall of notes and photos. "I keep coming back to what Brody overhead Telford saying on the phone the night Rush's apartment burned." He admitted. "If we take that as Chloe Armstrong he was speaking to, then maybe there is something she's hiding that would explain what we're missing here."

Camile nodded slowly. "I think we need to recheck everyone's alibis for Telford's attack."

"And hope Telford comes round and can tell us who shot him." Young said. "I think we need to have a serious discussion with Chloe Armstrong though."

"Let's run the alibis again, then go over and see Chloe Armstrong again in the morning." Camile said.

 

xxxoooxxx

 

By the time Young was back in the office the next morning, Brody was already there having a quiet discussion with Vanessa in back, both leaning on the counter by the coffee machine. Young could guess what it was about and he left them to it, running through some routine business with Becky while they chatted. Vanessa was a good listener when the time called for it, and Young guessed explaining it to someone who wasn't there but would understand why it had happened would be helpful. He finished up with Becky, asking her to phone the hospital to check on David Telford.

 They appeared to be winding down by the time that Camile arrived.

"How do you feel?" She asked Brody as she walked in.

"Better." He admitted, ducking his head and looking embarrassed. "I'll be fine today."

Camile said nothing but smiled and put a bag of muffins on the counter and poured herself a coffee.

"Scott's gone out to look at the damage to the school." Vanessa told Young. "Sounds like kids again."

"Fine." Young said. "We're gonna go and see Chloe Armstrong again, speak to the staff at Icarus again. I need you to go and see Patricia Armstrong, recheck her statement about the night Telford was shot. And find out her shoe size."

"She didn't have much of an alibi." Vanessa said. "Not from what Adam said."

Brody flushed a little and Young stifled a smile at the news they were on first name terms.

"Yeah. If Telford comes around..."

"Uh..." Becky cut in. They all turned to look at her. "The hospital say Telford is conscious. He's asking to speak to the FBI, doesn't want to speak to the state police they've got guarding him."

Young looked at Camile.

"Adam can go with Vanessa." She said. "We can see Chloe Armstrong."

 

xxxoooxxx

 

The drive out to Icarus was fairly straightforward. The snow had stopped again and the day was bright and clear, forcing Young to pull out his sunglasses against the brightness of the sun on the snow.

"It's days like this I wish I had more time to appreciate the countryside." Camile said.

"You're a city girl?" Young asked.

"Yeah. Always have been." She said. "I like to ski though."

"You should try Novus, next town over. That's their big thing this time of year."

They pulled into the driveway leading to the Icarus plant. At the security post Carl Voss walked out of his booth. Young wound down his window.

"Hey Sheriff, Agent Wray." Carl greeted them. "I wasn't expecting you."

"We need to see Miss Armstrong again."

"I'll phone up to Stella." He said.

He disappeared back into the booth and through the glass they saw him pick up the phone. After a short exchange on the phone he replaced the handset and came out again.

"Stella says Miss Armstrong is on site but not in her office. She said to send you up. Miss Armstrong left instructions she'll make herself available whenever you need for the investigation."

He lifted the barrier and waved them through.

"Can he really be as young and innocent as he sounds?" Camile asked Young as they pulled away.

"Doubt it." Young said. "Probably ex-forces."

At the front of the building they pulled up and walked into the reception. The receptionist greeted them, but as soon as they reached the counter, Stella was walking out from the side door, greeting them.

"Agent Wray, Sheriff." She said smiling. "Is there any news?"

Camile and Young signed the book and accepted visitor badges from the receptionist.

"David Telford regained consciousness overnight." Young told her.

"Oh thank god." Stella said pressing a hand to her chest. "That takes a real weight off my mind."

She looked genuinely relieved.

"We need to speak to Chloe again." Camile said to Stella. "Is she available?"

"She's in the apartment." Stella said. "Talking to Doctor Rush."

Camile furrowed her brow. "Is that usual?"

"Oh yes. They often have informal meetings in the sitting room there. Especially with the research team. You can go along if you like. She knows you're here."

She led them through the plant, past the office areas they had met in previously and up two flights of stairs. Stella swiped her pass and tapped a code into a security door which opened to reveal a hall which looked like the corridor of an upscale hotel.

The floor was a complex pattern of inlaid wood, the walls were panelled in a matching wood to waist height and were a soft green above with tasteful glass shaded wall lights at intervals between the five doors that opened off the corridors.

"We keep two small apartments for general use of the senior staff and researchers, just small bedrooms and a living room kitchen." Stella said, gesturing at the doors on the left. "Then there is the apartment for the housekeeper, the guest apartment," a gesture to the right hand doors "and the Armstrong's personal apartment which is the largest."

She led them to the door at the far end of the corridor and knocked.

"Where's Doctor Rush staying?" Young asked curiously.

"Here of course." Stella said. "It's where he always stays."

Young raised his eyebrows, giving Camile a significant look. She nodded thoughtfully.

The door opened, Chloe Armstrong stepping back to let them into smaller hallway with several doors off it.

"Come in." She said.

"Shall I have the canteen send up refreshments?" Stella asked as they walked past her into the apartment.

"Yes please Stella." Chloe said sounding grateful.

She looked strained and worn to Young, as if she had not had much sleep in the last few days. She led them towards the only open door which led to a sitting room. It was large and open with big windows down one wall, three large couches and two armchairs arranged in an arc around two big coffee tables, facing what appeared to be a large entertainment system.

Doctor Rush was sitting in one of the armchairs, drinking coffee. The coffee table in front of him held the remains of a continental breakfast with two plates, and a laptop. As they walked in, he did something to the laptop and the picture on the wide screen television in the entertainment system changed from what had looked like a set of graphs to the Icarus logo in 3D, gradually rotating in space.

He looked annoyed, and Young realised as Chloe sat down that the source of their tension appeared to be each other as if they had been arguing before Young and Camile had arrived.

"Sit down." Rush said brusquely.

Next to him, Young saw Camile look from Chloe to Rush and back again.

"Is this a bad time?" She asked. "We can wait downstairs to meet with you once you're finished."

"No." said Chloe, firmly although her voice was a little strained. "We can talk to you now. There isn't anything more important than you finding who is murdering people."

There was a strange emphasis in her voice, and she looked at Rush not Camile as if she was making a point to him.

"Has anything else happened?" Rush asked. "Not another fire or attack."

"This time we both have an alibi." Chloe said with a weak smile. "We both stayed in the apartment last night." She sat down on the end of the sofa nearest to Rush.

Young caught Camile's eye momentarily before she continued.

"We need to talk to you about the attack on David Telford."

"Whatever you need." Chloe said. "Please, just ask."

"Your BMW has been identified as potentially being at the scene, we're awaiting a warrant to take it in for examination, but it's the only car of it's make and model registered in the district."

Chloe looked confused. "I haven't driven it in over a month. You don't need a warrant, you can take it if it will help you."

Next to her, Rush had tensed and his face appeared almost carefully blank.

"Thank you." Said Camile, that's very helpful. "Now we need to know who has or would drive it."

"Well, me, Doctor Rush, my mother, I think I loaned it to Doctor Volker once to take his wife out to an anniversary dinner as it looks very nice, David's driven it and a couple of the security staff have taken it to be serviced before."

Camile nodded. "Where are the keys kept?"

Chloe shrugged. "I have a set here, there's a set at home and there's an emergency set in the security office here."

"And where is the car now?"

"At home in the garage as far as I know." Chloe said. "I've been driving the SUV because of the weather, but mostly I've been staying here anyway."

"With Doctor Rush." Camile asked.

"Well yes, since his apartment was burned down he's been living here."

"But you both stay here a lot anyway?" Camile pressed.

Rush sat forward angrily. "Say what you're getting at Agent Wray, stop beating around the bush."

Camile sat back in the chair, face pleasant and body relaxed. "We are trying to work out what is happening here. There is something that we have missed, something that you aren't telling us and it appears it may well have something to do with your relationship."

That was a bit of a stretch. Young thought, but he was willing to go with it as a line of discussion.

"Relationship?" Chloe asked. "What relationship?"

"They think we're having a sexual relationship." Rush spat the words out.

Chloe looked horrified. "With Uncle Nick?" She stared at them. "He's been practically a second father to me."

Rush was about to speak again when Young's mobile rang, followed by Camile's. They locked eyes and Young pulled his out, standing and taking a few steps to the other side of the room while Camile continued to talk to the now somewhat irate scientist and CEO.

"Young."

"It's Vanessa."

"Telford?"

"Patricia Armstrong shot him. Telford just told Brody."

"Find her. We're with Rush and Chloe. Try the house first, that's where the car is, she might try to destroy evidence."

"Will do sir." Vanessa rang off immediately.

Young walked back over.

"Camile," he interrupted, "if I may?"

She looked at him, pausing.

"Chloe, where would your mother be at the moment?" He asked.

In his peripheral vision he saw Camile grasp the import of his question and she stood and walked away, pulling out her own phone.

"Why?" Chloe asked.

"It's important." Young said. "Where will she be."

"At home." Rush cut in. "She's at home today. She called to speak to Chloe earlier."

"Yes." Chloe agreed. "Today's not a day she has any of her groups or activities." She went to stand but Rush caught her wrist. "What is going on?" She pleaded.

Young took a deep breath. "David Telford regained consciousness overnight. He told Agent Brody your mother shot him."

Chloe gasped and swayed in her seat, and it was only Rush sitting forward and putting a hand on her shoulder to steady her that appeared to keep her up. Behind him, Young could hear Camile telling Brody Patricia Armstrong should be at home.

"Do you know why your mother would want to kill David Telford or any of the other people who have died."

Chloe looked faint.

"Get her a glass of water." Rush snapped, leaning Chloe forward and putting her head between her knees. He gestured at a door on the other side of the room.

Young looked at Camile who nodded and he walked through the door indicated into a large kitchen. There were a large number of cupboards, but someone had left a glass on the draining board by the sink and he filled it with water and walked back out.

When he came back through, Rush appeared to be calming Chloe down and Camile was still on the phone, but watching the pair intently.

He handed over the glass of water. Chloe sipped at it.

"Now," Young said, "is one of you gonna give me an explanation as to why Patricia Armstrong would want to try to kill David Telford, or you Doctor Rush or anyone else involved."

There was a long pause. Chloe put the glass of water down and took the handkerchief Rush held out to her to wipe her eyes. Rush sat up straight and looked Young in the eyes.

"Everyone who has been killed are among the people who knew I was having a relationship with Alan Armstrong." He said. His voice was tight and oddly flat as if he was holding in strong emotion. "There are others who know too, but..." He stopped, eyes bright and pained.

Chloe was staring at Rush in what looked like shock.

Out in the hall there was a noise of the door opening and everyone turned, Chloe wiped her eyes quickly. "That will be the coffee." she said.

The door opened and a woman stepped in carrying a tray. Young gave her a pleasant smile before realised the woman’s face was a mask of suppressed terror. Suddenly she was propelled forward in a crashing sprawl, tray of coffee going flying and the woman hitting the floor with a heavy thud.

Patricia Armstrong stood in the doorway, gun swinging for a moment before she focussed on Rush, swinging the gun round towards him.

"You fucking fag bastard!" she screamed. The gun wavered slightly, but not enough that Young, felt willing to risk going for his  own weapons yet. Patricia looked drunk, and her eyes were red rimmed.

"You stole my husband, you got him killed and now you're trying to steal my daughter!"

"I didn't steal your husband." His tone was scathing and his pointing finger stabbed out, punctuating his words. "He was mine first." He stood and took a step to the right away from Chloe.

 _"Shut up, shut up, shut up!"_ Thought Young.

"Don't move! Don't you move any more!" Patricia screamed.

Young could see Camile moving very slowly out of the corner of his eye. He hoped Patricia Armstrong's attention was completely focussed on Doctor Rush and she didn't notice.

"You just wouldn't get out of our life!" She shouted.

Rush's tone was scathing. "He didn't want me out of his life." He shook his head angrily. "I kept quiet! I stayed invisible! I worked my guts out for his company!"

Patricia took a step into the room.

"You _used_ him!" she accused, gesticulating wildly with the gun.

Young fought the urge to duck, mind racing, the thought shooting through his head _"For Christ's sake Rush don't antagonise the crazy woman."  
_

"I loved him!" Rush shot back.

"You killed him!"

She steadied the gun pointing at him and Chloe stepped forward on shaky legs, facing her mother.

"No Mom," she said quietly, "I was there, Dad sent Uncle Nick out, threw him out of the room. It wasn't Uncle Nick's fault."

 _"She knows!"_ Realised Young incredulously. " _She's known all along._ "

"No Chloe." Patricia Armstrong contradicted her daughter angrily. "It's _his_ fault. If Alan had just done what he should have done, managed the business and not spent all his time in the labs with _him,_ this would never have happened."

"Mom!" Young could hear the tears in Chloe's voice. "Why Mom? Why all the others?"

Patricia's aim didn't waver from Rush. "They covered it all up. All of them, hid his sordid little obsession with my husband, made it possible."

Chloe's breath hitched in a sob. "I knew," she said. "I knew Mom. I always knew. I went to dinner with them. I saw them kiss. I stayed over with them in the apartment at Icarus." Her voice was cracking. "I knew they shared a room."

Patricia Armstrong's face crumpled and the gun wavered. "You __**bastard**_._ " She said to Rush and her voice was cold, venomous and quiet.

She lifted the gun and pulled the trigger.

"No!" Chloe's voice was a strangled shriek as she threw herself in front of Rush.

The bullet spun her round and she crumpled to the floor.

 _" _ **CHLOE!**_ "_ Patricia Armstrong's voice was a cry of horror.

Rush flung himself down, protecting Chloe as Camile Wray wrenched the gun from Patricia's slackening grip. She unloaded it, threw it onto an empty couch and handcuffed Patricia, who was staring horrified as Young and Rush rolled Chloe over to see her wound.

"Call the paramedics!" shouted Young at the woman who had brought the coffee.

The woman appeared to pull herself together and disappeared into the kitchen.

"Chloe!"

Young turned to Patricia. "You shot her in the stomach."

Rush was pulling off his shirt, wadding it and using it to staunch the blood pouring from Chloe's side. Chloe was making little crying pants of pain, and Rush looked to Young.

"Take this!"

Young took over applying pressure to the wound, as Rush stood wiping bloody handprints down the long sleeved white t-shirt he had had on under his shirt. He disappeared and came back with clean hand towels to replace the shirt. There were more footsteps in the hallway and Greer appeared.




"What's going on?" He asked.

"Patricia shot Chloe." Rush said, without looking up from Chloe.

Greer looked at Patricia cuffed in the chair to Camile and then Young, evidently confused. Young nodded in confirmation.

"Shit." Greer said.

"The paramedics are coming." Said the canteen employee from the kitchen doorway.

"Stay here." said Camile. "Wait in the kitchen if you want." She turned to Young. "Brody and Vanessa are on route."

Young and Rush appeared to have staunched the worst of the bleeding, but Young only felt his almost panicky adrenaline begin to ebb almost ten minutes later as TJ hurried in followed by Cole, and started to treat Chloe.

Brody and James appeared in the doorway. "Take her away" He said in disgust gesturing to Patricia.

"Chloe!" Patricia called, anguished.

"You shot her." Young said without sympathy. He looked at Vanessa again. "Get her out of here."

Rush ignored everything, watching as the paramedics worked on Chloe. Young walked over to him.

"Why didn't you say anything?" He asked Rush.

"What choice did I have?" Rush asked him bitterly. "It would ruin Alan's reputation, and ruin Patricia's life. I've spent my whole life keeping us a secret for the benefit of his company and my career, and as the world changed, for _her_ bloody benefit."

He put a hand on the man's shoulder but Rush didn't turn away from watching the paramedics on the floor with Chloe.

"How is she?" Young asked TJ.

"It looks like the bullet went through the muscle at the side of her abdomen." Said TJ over her shoulder. "It's ripped a hole through her side, she'll need some work done on it," she said looking back at Chloe, "but you should be fine." She told her.

"So she knew." Young said to Rush quietly.

Rush gave a short laugh which held absolutely no humour. "She figured out her parents marriage wasn't working when she was about six, then caught us kissing when she was about seven."

"And she didn't tell Patricia?"

Rush shook his head. "No." He sighed and turned to look at Young through his hair. "God I loved Alan, wanted him from the first moment we met. I was only eighteen and he was four years older, post grad." He paused. "Did anyone tell you what happened when she was born?" He asked with one of his lightning fast changes of topic.

"Stella told Wray that Patricia was sick." Young said.

Rush gave the same mirthless laugh. "Chloe was an emergency caesarean after Patricia had major complications. Patricia was sick in hospital for a month. Alan was left with a baby and no clue how to care for her." He looked to Chloe and then back to Young. "And there's me, oldest of eight, been takin' care of babies since I was six. So I took her on, how could I say no to him? And she was beautiful, perfect, almost killed me to give her back." He sighed. "Then Patricia had post-natal depression, and Alan was bringing Chloe in practically every day as Patricia couldn't cope."

They both stopped as Chloe cried out while TJ did something to her wound. Rush flinched at the sound and Young squeezed his shoulder.

"And she never really stopped coming in." Rush continued.

"Sounds like you had a big hand in raising her."

"Diapers and late night feeds, skinned knees and band aids and homework and boyfriends right up to 'Uncle Nick can I borrow your car?'"

Young felt him tense as Chloe was loaded onto a stretcher.

"She's going to be okay." TJ told them. "Really."

Rush's tension began to bleed away. Young patted him on the shoulder.

"Go with her." He said.

Young walked over to Brody and Wray.

"The missing puzzle piece." Said Camile.

"Yeah." Said Young. "Rush and Alan Armstrong." He exhaled. "Not something I'd have credited." He admitted.

Camile and Brody shared a look and Young guessed there was something there that he didn't understand, but they turned back.

"It explains everything." Camile said. "The will, his relationship with Chloe."

Young nodded.

"I get the impression he practically raised her with Armstrong." He said.

Wray nodded.

"Patricia Armstrong seems pretty unstable." Brody said. "I won't be surprised if they try to have her detained on the grounds of her mental health rather than convicted."

Camile shrugged. "I doubt that will come to pass." She said. "She knew what she was doing. It was revenge, pure and simple."

"Your professional opinion?" Asked Brody.

"My professional opinion." She agreed.

 

xxxoooxxx

 

Feeling considerably better for a good night's sleep uninterrupted by emergencies or worries of more fires, Young drove to the County Hospital. He had a quick word with the nurse on duty, showing his badge and she smiled and let him know Miss Armstrong was accepting visitors.

Young wandered into the private hospital room. Chloe was propped up in the bed, Rush was sitting in the chair next to her.

"Sheriff." She said, smiling.

"Thought I'd drop by and see how you were doing." He said a little awkwardly. "Not an official visit, although we'll need to do that soon."

She nodded. "Of course. The doctors say I'm doing very well, I should be able to go home in a couple of days."

He proffered the large bunch of flowers. "Traditional offering?" He said. "The whole office and Agents Wray and Brody all contributed."

Rush, giving Young a measuring look, evidently decided that Young wasn't too much of a problem and stood. "I'll get the nurse to find some water." He said shortly, taking the flowers. "I'll be back soon Chloe." And tactfully, if with some irritation, he walked out.

Chloe gestured to the chair and Young sat down.

"He's a little protective." She said. "But you can see why."

Young nodded.

"I've had three parents all my life." Chloe said. "And in some ways I've been closer to Uncle Nick than to Dad or Mom."

Young wasn't sure what to say so he just nodded again. Chloe seemed deep in thought.

"Dad really wanted to do the right thing when he married Mom. I mean, he had to do it, get married and have a family, it's what was expected. He did love her," she said, a little defensively, then her face softened sadly, "but I guess just not enough."

There was a long pause. Chloe took a drink of water from a glass at her bedside before starting again.

"I think I always knew that Dad loved Uncle Nick." She mused. "I can remember them hugging when I was little." She smiled. "Do you know my earliest memory is being bathed by Dad and Uncle Nick, I must have been about three, playing with empty tubs in the bath, and I tipped a whole tub of water over them." She laughed, then sighed. "My mom, she didn't know what to do with me, and to me she wasn't so much fun. She was ill a lot when I was little." She paused. "Dad and Uncle Nick were always there, I always knew they loved me. I loved my mom, but we never really connected, and she was too scared to have any more kids. I feel kind of sorry for her, Uncle Nick got dad and me, and she..." Chloe paused, "she just didn't know how to be part of our lives."

Young patted her hand. "Your mom..." he started awkwardly.

Chloe interrupted "Is going to be charged with fourteen counts of murder, several counts of attempted murder on Uncle Nick, David and me, and several counts of arson, I know. We've employed legal representation for her." Chloe's face was drawn again. "I had to choose." She whispered. "I chose Uncle Nick."

"I understand." Young said.

"You know Mom only inherited an income from Dad." Chloe said quietly. "It's a good one, but even the house belongs to me and Uncle Nick inherited part of the company..." She stopped again. "I've ceased contact. I've instructed her legal team that any contact will be through my lawyers, I've written up my will to ensure she can't get anything and I've asked Uncle Nick to adopt me. Mom will still get the income, even when she goes to prison, but she'll never come back here." She took a deep breath. "I'm told she's pleading diminished responsibility."

Young nodded. "Yeah. I don't think it will work though."

"I don't care." Chloe said, and Young could see her eyes were tearing up. "I don't understand why she did it." She sighed. "I had three parents, I was happy with three parents. Now I've only got one."

Young reached out and squeezed her hand. "But I can see he loves you."

Chloe looked up gratefully. "Yeah." She said with a weak smile.

Rush walked back into the room and Young stood. "I'll have to come back with Agent Wray and interview you formally, Chloe, we can do that here if you want or wait till you're out. Doctor Rush we'll need to see you too."

"I can come to the station this afternoon." Rush said. "We need to get this over and done with as soon as possible, Sheriff."

Young nodded. "Understood."

"Come back tomorrow morning." Chloe said. "I'll be here."

Her voice hitched in a sob. Rush put the vase of flowers down on the counter, then reached out and hugged Chloe. Young slipped out quietly.

 

xxxoooxxx

 

Outside the hospital he found TJ.

"Andy said he'd just seen you." She said. "I'm just coming off shift. How's Chloe?"

"Shaken up but coping. Doctor Rush is in there with her."

TJ nodded with a thoughtful expression. "Yeah, wow, like that was a surprise." She admitted.

Young nodded. "I guess that's love for you." He said.

They were silent for a moment, awkwardly meeting each other's gaze.

"Hey," she said. "You never made me that lasagne."

He smiled, the smile strengthening as her expression replied in kind. "I'm sure I can manage that." He said. "I think things are going to quieten down around here for a little."

"I've got three days off." She said, a little shyly. "I wouldn't have to...run off early."

She blushed.

"I'd like that." He said. "Err, tomorrow night then? At my place?"

"Yeah."

She leaned in, putting her hands on his shoulders and kissed him. His hands developed a mind of their own, moving to capture her hips then sliding up to cup her shoulder blades as the kiss deepened. After long seconds had passed he pulled away a little breathless.

"I gotta go back to the station." He said apologetically.

"I know." She said. "But tomorrow right?"

"Tomorrow." He confirmed. ""Seven o'clock?"

"Lovely."

He gave her a final peck on the lips and walked back to his car, trying to suppress the dumb grin on his face.

 

xxxoooxxx

 

The station was busy, Scott and James were there and the two FBI agents were going through paperwork with Becky, beginning to make up the formal case files that would go to the District Attorney.

"Doctor Rush will be here this afternoon." Young said. "To make a formal witness statement, and Miss Armstrong would like us to interview her at the hospital tomorrow morning."

Camile nodded. "How are they?"

"Coping." Young said with a sigh. "As well as can be expected. Chloe told me she's covering her mother's legal costs, but she's severed contact and she's asked Rush to adopt her."

"I'm not surprised. I get the impression he's been more of a parent to her than Mrs Armstrong."

"Do you think the diminished responsibility plea will help her?" Young asked, sitting down opposite the two agents.

"No." Brody said. "It rarely does. Certainly not with this degree of premeditation."

Camile nodded. "I agree. I don't think Miss Armstrong will have to worry about contact, Everett. I think Patricia Armstrong will be lucky not to get the death penalty."

Young frowned. "I can't say...." he paused. "I know it's law but..."

"Yeah." Camile said. "But it doesn't make anything better."

There was a long silence.

"So." Brody said finally. "It's over."

"Yeah." Young nodded and clapped Brody on the shoulder, putting his hand on Camile's. "It's finally over."

 


End file.
